TIC: Extra Scenes
by mel.wolfgirl
Summary: Various scenes and drabbles from The Imprinted Chronicles, a series of imprint-based wolf pack fics. AU after Eclipse. Multiple pairings. Varying ratings for possible violence, mature language and themes. May contain spoilers for later TIC stories.
1. Chapter 1

A/N I'm still digging through the old stuff on my laptop, so some of these extra scenes and drabbles might be familiar to alot of you.

**TIC Extra #1**

**Timeline**: This extra scene is from TIC: B1, the end of chapter four, when Embry has to leave Sims at the beach so he can go with his Pack to Calgary.

**Characters**: Leah, Jake, Pack

**Rating**: T

**Word Count**: 3438

**Warnings**: Mild language, Jake being waaaaay too overconfident

* * *

"Flirt later, dipshit, we've gotta go!"

From Leah's left, Collin chuckled. The rangy young wolf was unsnapping his jeans, already shirtless and barefoot. They were far enough back in the tree line that no one would be able to see them, and most of the Pack had phased already. Embry had told Sims a little fib, because they weren't going to be driving to meet up with Jake at the 'job'. They would be running there as wolves. Not that Leah minded a road trip, but they had to make Calgary, Alberta before nine that night and it was well over six hundred miles as the crow flies…or the wolf runs. It was four now, which meant that they had just enough time to make the run and rest up before nine. They really didn't have the time to waste on Embry trying to get laid.

"It looks like Emb's back in the saddle, huh?" Brady joked as he waited before stripping completely. Leah rolled her eyes at the statement, tugging irritably at her sports bra strap.

"Please, like moron over there has a chance with that girl. She just doesn't know anybody around here. I hope she's got better sense than to get hung up on him," Leah added, belated realizing that her tugging had drawn Brady's attention. She bared her teeth at him and the younger wolf ducked his head apologetically, a smile on his handsome face.

"Sorry," he murmured, although he didn't sound like he meant it and his smile only grew when she growled lightly. "You smell good today," he shrugged, as if that explained it.

"Leah smells good every day," Collin threw a flirtatious grin at Leah from over Brady's shoulder, not bothering to wait for the remaining wolves to gather before stripping off his shorts.

Of them all, Collin had the least problem with casual nudity. Mix that in with an unhealthy interest in what wolf sex might be like, and the result was that there were very few days that went by where he didn't at least try to flirt with her. Leah sighed in irritation. Normally she would have either laughed at him or chewed on him in retaliation, but they needed to maintain their strength, and Leah was seasoned enough to know when mindless tussling was detrimental. She cast a look over at the sandy wolf to her right. Seth had that slightly glazed expression he sometimes had when deep in private discussion with Jake, but her annoyance was picked up by Sam, the last of them still un-phased. He didn't say anything, but the look he leveled both Collin and Brady made them hunker their shoulders. Collin finished undressing quickly and both wolves phased quickly.

Sam stood silently as they heard Embry running back, but by the crease across his brow Leah could tell something was bothering him.

"What?" Leah raised an eyebrow. Even after all these years, she could still read Sam like a book. A handsome, broody, ex-boyfriend book.

"They're right, Leah. You smell better than normal," Sam grunted as if it was a bad thing. "It's going to be dangerous for you tonight."

Leah smirked at that. "What's the matter, Sam?" she teased lightly. "You're not starting to get second thoughts, are you? You've already missed this train, buddy."

Sam rolled his eyes at her, a near perfect mimic of her own a few minutes ago, but her comment hadn't upset him the way it would have three years earlier. "You're not going into heat again, are you Leah?" he asked point blank, and Leah laughed.

"Because I have it timed, Sam, just like that," she said sarcastically. "I only have twice ever, so it's not like I can predict it. You would know better than I would."

It was true. The first time she had gone into heat, the wolf equivalent of getting her cycle, no one had seen it coming. They had thought that the lack of aging had stuck her in a state similar to menopause. All Leah had known that day was that she had been even angrier than normal, even more frustrated than normal, and that her skin had felt as if it was stretched too thin over her muscles. She had thought she was going to burst with built up aggravation. Leah had decided to take her mood out on Paul, who could always be counted on for a good rumble even if he had calmed down significantly from how he used to be. The last thing she had expected was to slice a deep gash down Paul's side from shoulder to hip when she attacked him, never thinking for a second that the male wolf would have chosen to not protect himself or fight back.

Even Paul had seemed confused as he had poured blood, but instead of screaming at her in her head, he had muttered an apology and sank to his belly. Leah had been even more shocked when Quil had showed up on the scene and Paul had attacked him, driving him off with snarling teeth despite the injury. The more of the Pack that had showed up, the worse the fighting had gotten between the male wolves, with only Seth unaffected by the insanity. He had been baffled, but he had sniffed Leah, asking her what had changed and what was wrong.

It wasn't until Jake had gotten there that the fighting had calmed down, basically because the Alpha had leaped over top of the confused and frightened she-wolf, his massive body nearly hiding her from view as he ordered them all to leave and phase back. They had never felt the Alpha command that strongly before and the Pack had slipped away, leaving just Leah and Jake alone.

Now that she knew better, Leah was thankful that the man inside the Alpha was a good one, because that day could have been a bad one for her. Instead of taking advantage of the situation, Jake had forced away any desire her changed scent had roused in him. It was a sign of his willpower, because that desire had been significant. The Alpha had stayed by Leah's side, and had spent nearly three days straight guarding her from herself and her own Pack mates, who singularly seemed to be able to handle being around her but whom could not handle it as a group. In those three days the Alpha had laid down the law of the land, _making_ them learn control, and he hadn't gentle about it. By the time he was done, they could barely look at her.

Jake had been very clear about it: just because Leah was no longer a pup (the reason he had decided she hadn't come into heat earlier) meant nothing. It was Leah's choice which lovers she would or would not take, and she had the weight of her Alpha behind her in that. Jake had promised to rip the throat out of any of his Pack that took advantage of the situation, without exception. That had been a good thing, especially considering that by the second day Leah had been practically clawing down the walls trying to get laid. Since then Jake had let her have her fun, but even two years later all Leah had to do was a level a look that said she was over the attention and they would instantly back down.

That wasn't always the case with other male wolves.

"I'm not going to go into heat, at least not tonight," Leah reassured Sam, even though that wasn't necessarily true. She was just trying to make him feel better, and he knew it by his deepened frown. Embry had trotted up and was stripped down by now, his head cocked to the side as he caught the tail end of their conversation. He inhaled deeply, and then shook his head.

"She'll be fine, Sam," Embry said confidently. He winked at Leah, grinning. "She just smells good cause she's excited. You're itching for a fight, aren't you, Lee-Lee? Or maybe you're just itching to be around Jake again?"

"Shuddup, jerkwad," Leah retorted, embarrassed that he managed to pull a slight blush from her. "Go be too much of a pussy to kiss your girlfriend."

Embry laughed, but then he turned to Sam, distracted by the mention of Sims. Leah chose to ignore their conversation, knowing Embry was a fool if he thought Sam would let anything happen to her while Embry was gone. Leah pulled her bra off, feeling at least one pair of eyes linger briefly on her before turning away. She smiled and took a little longer than necessary to slide her shorts down her hips and strap her clothing to her leg. She did feel good. Her Alpha needed them with him. He needed _her_.

It was about damn time.

* * *

Her paws were digging into the dirt.

As he stood in the middle of the woods, on a boulder overlooking a deeply cut riverbed below, Jacob Black couldn't have said how he knew this. He didn't know how he felt the earth give between her toes as she ran towards him, but he did. This was the closest he had been to his Pack in too long, and their lack of physical presence had hurt him in more ways than one. Wolves weren't solitary creatures, they needed the Pack around them to be truly comfortable, and for an Alpha it was doubly so. An Alpha needed his wolves by his side, needed them so he could protect them, and needed them so he could guide them. He needed their worries and their fears and their petty squabbles. He needed the weight of their lives to burden his shoulders, because without them to center him, he was too vast, too wild, and too strong.

That was mostly Leah's fault.

Jake didn't know why his strength was tied so much into her. The first female wolf the tribe had heard of, but not the first one in truth. They were a rarity, and even after months of travel, Jake had only caught the faintest scent of a single other female. They were guarded safely away, a precious commodity that could not be lost. Jake didn't understand why, but he did know that the day Leah had slipped out of puppyhood was the day the wolf inside him had done the same. They were adolescents now, only beginning to experience the reality of being wolves and not yet able to comprehend the whys. All he knew was that his Pack made him strong, and Leah made him stronger, and together they were a match for even the most dangerous of Packs.

That was why he had called them. Alone he was confident in his chances against the Calgary Alpha, but Calgary's Pack was large and made up of older wolves. Jake wanted ones he could trust at his back.

Calgary was itching for a fight, which worried Jake. Not for himself, but for his Pack. This was the worst probable fight he had led them into so far and there wasn't even a vampire in sight. Jake wasn't interested in simply fighting for dominance, because Jake didn't want Calgary's Pack. All wolves were by nature tough, but these men were also mean, and their Alpha smart as hell. Jake was looking for alliances, not hostile takeovers, but a show of power was sometimes necessary to get someone's attention. Jake wanted to bring the scattered Packs together, bring his people together, not tear them all further apart.

They were running silent, the way he had taught them when in unknown territory, so there were no howls to warn him of their approach. Instead he felt it in his very bones. Jake lifted his face, letting the soft white moonlight slide over his flesh as he called them to him. No words were necessary. He wanted them, and he let that want roll through the Packmind.

They were coming.

She was coming faster.

Jake broke the silence with his quiet laughter, unable to stop the pleasure that curled through his belly at her smugness. His Beta's mind touched his briefly, something only the two of them could do when one or both were in human form and only with effort. Seth was ready, and he was strong tonight too. It will be a good fight, Alpha.

They would only fight if they had too, Jake decided, seeing through Seth's eyes the flash of grey and silver that were Embry and Paul. Courage and skill in equal amounts, Jake's teeth and claws, separated from his body. Brady and Collin running half a length behind: Jake's muscle, his endurance and power. Leah: his speed and his fire, his passionate fury. Seth: his honor and his hope, his trust. So much lay on his Beta's shoulders, too much, but Seth never complained. He loved them all so damn much.

Jake felt their pride at his assessment and then Seth slid away. He waited patiently, his powerful human body held poised. The jeans strapped to his thigh were the only thing that said he belonged anywhere else than the wooded world his brethren passed through. They were coming at a dead run, and he needed be ready. He could feel the beat of her paws as they dug into the earth, her scent heavy and _good_ in his nostrils. His Pack, almost on top of him. His wolves. _His power_…

Fuck, he loved this shit.

The she-wolf was like a grey bullet streaking past him over the edge, her nose even with his thigh when Jacob flung himself forward off the boulder. It was only a twenty foot drop and Leah was the fastest of them all, able to run at nearly two hundred and twenty miles an hour when hard pressed. Brady had once worked that out to be over three hundred feet a second, which meant that she hit that riverbed in the blink of an eye. Jacob beat her there, his heavy russet paws slamming into the ground first.

Son of a bitch, Leah thought she had him this time, and the russet wolf bumped her shoulder in amusement. Trees and rocks blurred as the pair ran in tandem, silent ghosts streaking along the forest floor.

That was so cool, Embry wanted to be able to phase that fast. And he and Seth could barely keep up, even though they were digging in.

At least they could run that fast, Collin was grumbling, because they were blazing him and Brady out. Paul reluctantly agreed and Jake slowed, keeping Leah's pace with his because he wanted her there. Neck and neck, nose and nose, the two wolves were immediately flanked by the rest of the Pack. It was good to run with them, better to run with so many of them. Three were missing and Jake instinctively reached out across the distance, finding Jared and Sam and Quil. He stretched the Pack bond like it was a rubber band and snagged them inside the circle so that the Pack was one. They had stayed phased tonight and had waited in case Jake did just that. The three's thoughts slid through the Pack mind as if they were at the Pack's side. Quil was desperately worried about Claire, Sam wished he and Emily would stop arguing so much, and Jared hoped tonight would be taco night.

Thoughts continued to flow. Paul was on edge, not liking that both Jared and Sam weren't there. He was too used to having them get his back in a fight. Embry wanted Sims, wanted to be able to put her against something softer than a truck door, wanted to bury himself inside her and make her make those noises again, only louder. Collin wanted Embry to stop thinking about sex because he was already hard up for any action and that sucked enough without being reminded of it. Jared thought that sex was the only thing better than taco night, and Brady agreed because tacos were the shit, but sex was, well…sex. Who didn't like sex? Even Leah liked sex, and Leah never liked anything. Both Sam and Embry became quite smug at that and Leah laughed. What did they know? Sex was a whole lot better now that she'd slipped out of puppyhood, and both Sam and Embry were before that change.

Ouch.

Quil didn't know how anyone could be thinking about sex when somewhere out there a leech wanted to eat Claire, and Jared wanted to eat a taco really freaking badly. Embry didn't know enough about Sims to know if she liked tacos, but he wanted to take her out to dinner again. Was it weird that he felt this overwhelming compulsion to feed her?

Yes, it was unanimous from all sides. Collin agreed with Quil about Claire. And Jared about tacos. Brady had only seen Sims eat peanut butter sandwiches and apples and pizza, but any girl who traded school work for food wouldn't turn down dinner. Shit, Sam was going to be late for dinner. Paul wondered if he would have to live off of frozen dinners for the rest of his life, but he hated cooking and hated asking anyone to cook for him. The city of Calgary burned in Seth's sensitive nose, the best nose of them all. The scent of diesel fuel and exhaust overpowered the coalescing human and garbage smells, meaning they were approaching from the industrial side. Brady hated the cities, too many smells, it always made him nauseous.

Seth wanted everyone to focus, Jake was going to take a stronger control of the Pack. They did. Jake tightened down the rubber band, shifting the Pack eastwards as his mind slid over what he knew about the Calgary Pack. Jake had learned to override the thoughts of the other wolves, not silence them but dim them down beneath his own. Collin might still be thinking about food and Quil about Claire, but their thoughts were like white noise, nothing more than a buzz in the background behind Jake's thoughts. As one their minds focused on what Jake had to say.

Calgary's Alpha was an old wolf, not as old as Jack, but still old. Everything and everyone's scent changed as they aged. Unlike the heavy bitter scent of weakness and frailty that age brought to animals and humans, an older wolf carried with it a far more delicate scent. Power. The smell might be sweet and faint like a far off flower, but the weight of it would slam against them from every side. Without him with them, their Alpha would have only felt safe sending Seth to speak to Calgary, and he would never have chanced his Beta that way. The Calgary Alpha would have put the rest of the Pack on their knees the first time they met his eyes, and Calgary would have had no problems holding them there on strength alone as he tore their throats out.

The hell he would have, the she-wolf snorted derisively. Again amusement curled through Jake's belly. Everyone but Leah, he amended his thoughts.

The point was Calgary was strong. But Jake was strong, too, and he wanted allies. There was a chance Calgary would negotiate, and if so, tonight could be interesting.

Seth's thoughts were soft but certain. They would negotiate, they would have no reason not to.

Not necessarily. The Alpha thought that Calgary asking for this meeting could be a trick to get all of them together to take them all out at once, but Calgary had asked for a show of Pack power and Jake had agreed. Jake thought Calgary had something up his sleeve, something dangerous that they wouldn't see coming, but so did Jake.

Were they being foolish? Brady wondered, not with cowardice. Should they not go?

Jake barked out a laugh, his long strides slowing the wolves as they reached the outskirt of town. No, Jake was quite sure of himself and his Pack. Calgary might have age and, but Jake had something better. Jake had something the other Alpha couldn't and wouldn't have, and that made him extremely confident. The Alpha turned sideways and rested his muzzle on top of the she-wolf's back, his tongue lolling out as he grinned at his dubious Pack. Six hundred miles away Sam started cursing at his Alpha, even though Jared was laughing his ass off. The she-wolf merely smirked.

Jake had Leah. With her at his side, there was no way this could go wrong.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N Thanks to all my reviewers for the warm welcome back! You have chicadee and margottenser to thank for it. They have been beyond supportive and never let me forget how fun writing used to be, even when I didn't even want to look at my computer anymore. (hugs friends tightly)

There have been some questions in reviews as to whether or not I'm writing TIC again, and my answer is a firm "probably". I'd say a flat out yes, but I've tried a couple times this last year, and always put the series away again. But I'm trying again, so we'll see. :)

**TIC Extra #2**

**Timeline**: The scene is set during TIC: B2, after everyone returns home to La Push from the fight with Calgary. Seth and Paul are still in Europe, trying to find Cassie.

**Characters**: Joe Carter, Sims, Embry

**Rating**: T

**Word Count**: 1380

**Warnings**: Strong language, gun violence

* * *

Joe Carter isn't the nicest guy in the world, but he hasn't _always_ been like that.

Sometimes life doesn't go the way we want, and we wake up forty and fatter and disillusioned. You see, not everyone is a hero, not everyone saves the day or makes the good choices. Not everyone ends up with the pat on the back and the thumbs up and the knowledge that they were good and right and had made a difference. Sometimes all we just are who we are, sometimes we're just people, and sometimes people are less than impressive, even to ourselves.

Joe Carter had wanted to start a hardware store. He had wanted to fix up old cars on the weekends, and fish with his friends while his wife and his kids were happy at home and waiting for him to come back. Sometimes when he was drunk enough, he could pretend that Jessica stayed Jessica, that Melissa had never showed up, and that Samantha had never been dragged off to god knows where to be raised by god knows who that day. And the fucked up part of it was that everyone thought that _he_ was the bad parent. Well, he isn't a good one. Not being a nice guy will do that to a father, but at least that girl wakes up every day knowing he is who he had been yesterday. And good or bad, impressive or not, at least she knows what to expect from him.

Funny, Samantha is the only one besides Joe Carter that seems to get that Joe Carter isn't quite the bastard the rez likes to make him out to be. Maybe that's why he does what he does when his daughter slips in the front door after being gone for several weeks, her arm in a cast, her hair cut shorter than she would have ever wanted it, and the nails ripped off her left hand.

Her nails _ripped off_. Joe Carter loses it.

You see, Joe Carter isn't the nicest guy in the world, but he isn't a total bastard, and somewhere in his head he understands that his daughter is the only family he has in the world. He isn't proud of her, and he thinks she's on a fucked up road with fucked up people. He figures that it sure as hell isn't anything to be proud of that she's the town bastard's most recent whore. That being said, they ripped her goddamn fingernails off, and someone was gonna pay for that shit.

When Joe Carter loses it, usually the cops get called.

It takes a while though, especially when Charlie Swan sighs because he's been called out to the Carter's residence way too much for his patience to stay contained. But this time it's because the sonofabitch is firing shots out at Call's place, and the folks on the rez were good people mostly, and that kind of thing scares them.

Joe Carter isn't a total bastard, but he figures that anyone that brings his daughter back home looking like someone fucking tortured her deserves to die. So when he shoots Embry this time, he shoots to kill, and if Embry wasn't Embry, it probably would have worked. But Embry is Embry, and once he realizes why Joe Carter just emptied his double barrel shotgun at him outside his home, Embry understands. That's why he doesn't defend himself when Joe Carter is out of ammo, just whispers how damn sorry he is he let Joe's little girl get hurt. It's the second time this has happened, and Joe's not the kind to not back up his word, although he is kind of surprised he missed the little shit, and decides to just beat him to death with a baseball bat instead.

Samantha Carter is many things on her own, but that part of her personality she's come by honest.

The Pack doesn't agree when they're ordered to stand back and watch their fourth take a beating, even one that's not as bad as it looks, but Embry's high enough ranked to make this decision for them. Paul and Seth are still in Europe, and Jake, well, Jake should be taking this beating instead of Embry, but Samantha is Embry's girl, not his. Sometimes, most times, Jake will outrank Embry, but not today, not when it comes to angry fathers.

Joe Carter isn't angry. He's fucking pissed.

Eventually the bat breaks, and then his hand breaks, because punching wolves is never a good idea even when those wolves allow themselves to be punched. Embry's bleeding, but standing there still apologizing, and Joe Carter wants a better gun, one that won't miss.

Samantha is still asleep in her father's house in his bed, because he's her father and she's had a bad couple weeks, and he may not be the nicest person, he may be a bastard, but he's her daddy, and the only one she's ever going to get. Her hair is splayed against the headboard, and Brady's head is against the siding on the outside of that same wall, because he's not doing well with this shit, not at all.

It's a tough world and things never go the way that we expect, but when Embry knocks on the door later that night after convincing Charlie that no, nothing happened and no, Joe Carter has done nothing wrong, a girl sleepily opens the door and smiles and lets him in. She and her father are on the couch, watching a movie. Embry eyes Joe, and Joe glares at Embry, and Samantha leans her head against her father's shoulder and puts her feet on Embry's lap. They watch Dracula, because for some reason that everyone in the room understands on a different level, she doesn't want to watch anything about werewolves tonight or maybe ever.

Embry wraps his big hands around her ankles, and the way his thumb rubs over the arch of her foot is soothing despite the fact that Dracula is busy sucking someone's blood. She falls asleep, not at all scared by the movie, and Embry wonders if it's because she knows that there are worse monsters out there than just vampires in black and red clothing with bad accents. She falls asleep, not at all scared by the movie, and Joe Carter wonders if it's because these fucking bastards that he _knows_ aren't what they pretend to be have shown her the real monsters in world. They let her get hurt too many times, and she's too desensitized to care.

Samantha Carter falls asleep, not at all scared by the movie, because Embry might be sick, and her father an asshole, but she likes to close her eyes and pretend they both love her the way she loves both of them, and that kind of sensation is far easier to accept than the pain in her arm, or her fingers, or that deep bruising she still feels inside…as if something had clawed its way out of her and then burrowed back in again.

Sometimes life doesn't go the way we want it too, and we wake up forty and fatter and disillusioned, but it's better to be like that than seventeen and young and disillusioned the same way. So Embry stares at her feet, and Joe stares at the screen, and everyone but Samantha understands that she's got a long road ahead of her and neither of these men are going to make it easier for her. Joe isn't going to be able to lift her up, no matter how strong he was, and Embry's going to drag her down, no matter how strong he is, and when you're tied at the wrist to an Alpha, no one's strong enough to go anywhere else than where the Alpha will take them.

The best she might ever be is right now, right in this moment, not moving because she's caught in between all three. If this world doesn't manage to suck her dry the way that it has Joe and Embry, or change her completely the way it has Jacob Black, then she's the exception to the rule.

Samantha Carter closes her eyes and dreams of her mother, and smiles. Thank god they are all here.


	3. Chapter 3

**TIC Extra #3**

**Timeline**: The scene is set during TIC: B3, after Sims phases to help save Seth.

**Characters**: Embry, Sims

**Rating**: T

**Word Count**: 1672

**Warnings**: Mild language

* * *

Embry had known better.

But apparently, it didn't matter that Embry had known better, because when it came down to it, Embry's opinion didn't matter. If Embry's opinion had mattered, his girl would have looked at him, would have talked to him, before walking out of that door with Jake. If Embry's opinion had mattered, she would have given him a second to tell her that he knew, he _knew_, that this wasn't right for her. His gut told him that, or maybe it was the fact that playing around the edges of his mind was knowledge he couldn't access, things that his wolf had felt was better off for him not to know, knowledge that said that she wasn't right for this.

Sims was _his_ lover, _his_ most important person, and she hadn't even paused for a second when Embry had called out for her to come back, to listen to him. Of all that had happened in his life, few things had ever been able to make him feel that useless, that impotent, as having to watch her walk into the biggest mistake of her life. And to be honest, the fact that she had used Paul to "restrain" him was something that infuriated Embry to no ends.

But Embry loved her, loved her more than he had ever loved someone else, and so he was trying to suck up his hurt and his anger, and he was trying his best to shove those emotions away, because right now they wouldn't help anything. Not when her mind was so lost that all they were getting from her was sights and sounds and flickers of memories that weren't part of anything any of them had ever seen before. Not when his own face flickered in more than anything else.

Embry's opinion might not have mattered to her before she had chosen this, but _he_ still mattered to her. It was a difficult feeling, questioning if what he _represented_ meant more than who he actually _was_ to his lover, and Embry tried not to feel like that put him in second place with himself.

She had hurt him today, had left him behind today, had left him out of 'them' today. She had made their decisions for both them, and Embry had enough pride to resent that. Because in truth, they were tied so tightly together that the decisions she made were going to affect him, very much so. He always took her into account, _always_. Every day he got up and he looked at his mottled eyes in the mirror and he forced himself to be what they _both_ needed him to be. Steady, responsible, consistent no matter how fucked up he was on any given day. Strong, supportive, understanding…and Sims tried to be all of those things too, but when push came to shove, she was like Jake. The Alpha would decide first, and wouldn't question his decisions until later. Jake would do what he felt was right and to hell what everyone else was screaming all around him. He would make the hard choices, but they all would have to live with his decisions.

Apparently they all had to live with her decisions, too.

It was hard, lying here curled around his lover, thinking these things. He felt like an ass, more concerned with his wounded feelings than the fact that she had given up _everything_ for Seth, for their Pack. And he felt like a hypocrite too, because he knew that he had made decisions for her before without her ever knowing them. But Embry was human, and he was hurt, and this had been a bad day. Talking to her would have helped, but she was still floating through the river that was the Packmind as if a leaf on the surface, drifting wherever it took her. If Jake hadn't already been able to get through to her once, to calm her mind down and make her focus, then Embry would have been terrified right now. Instead Jake had said to let her drift, to give her time to come back to herself, to keep only one Packmate's voice in her head so that it was less confusing for her.

His wolf thought that—

Embry didn't care. He didn't want to hear it.

His wolf thought—

_**No**_. Not today.

Wounded, self-doubting, and just so damn _tired_, Embry curled up around his girl a little closer. He needed her right now, needed her to reassure him, but he knew that when she came out of this, she would need his reassurance more. She had been strong earlier for their Pack, for Seth, and now Embry was going to have to be strong for her. So Embry pressed his nose into her fur and tried to remind himself that he wasn't a horrible person for wanting them to have an easier life, and to be thankful that she loved him as much as he loved her. It wasn't her fault that one more section had been taken out of his white picket fence, things had just unfortunately worked out this way. But he could still have his dreams and have her and have everything be okay. He would just…he would just try harder.

They would figure this out together, the way they always did. And until then, Embry would be strong enough for both of them. He _would_. He just needed some way to center himself, something to concentrate on to give him that steadiness that they both needed right now.

It was what he did every day, finding something to focus on so hard that it held the wolf in control. Sometimes it was his brother, Jake, and how much Jake had given up to try and keep Embry happy. Sometimes it was his work, and how much he loved what he did. But mostly it was Sims. Her sleepy smile when she woke up in his arms. The way she chewed her pencil eraser when she was studying something difficult. The look in her eyes when they made love. He would pick something every day and make that the reason he was strong that day.

Today it would be her tail.

At first it had worried Embry how small Sims' wolf form was, as if something _else_ was wrong with her, besides the fact that she couldn't stop phasing at first, or that her mind was having a hard time adjusting to this new form. But it made sense, really. She was only five and a half feet tall to his six and a half feet, and Embry wasn't even the largest of them. Jack was Leah's size, and they were both six feet tall. It only made sense that she was going to be smaller, and Embry had to admit that once the shock wore off, that he thought it was cute.

She would hate it, obviously, because she wasn't big on appearing weak, but Embry figured that if his opinion hadn't been given any choice in the matter, at least he ended up with an adorable mate. He liked her paw, the tan fur blending with chocolate near her ankle, and as he nuzzled her small, triangular ears with his nose, he decided that he liked them even more than her paw. Embry also decided that he'd better go find her leech tooth piercing back in the clearing because she'd be unhappy if she thought that she lost it.

And when Sims whined and curled up a little tighter into her ball, sticking her nose beneath the tan tip of her tail, Embry decided that his favorite was her tail. Today he would focus on her tail, and he would be strong because of that little tan tail tip. She had been strong already, and now it was his turn. And when this day was over, and maybe another few days were over as well, Embry was planning on taking his mate running, to see if she was as fast as he thought she was. If she wasn't, well then she'd better learn to guard her heels because he was planning on nipping that little tan tail tip as often as he could catch her.

Sims was starting to wake up, starting to slowly come back to herself, but she didn't know where she was. She knew that it was cool and it was dark and it was damp, all accept for one warm place that she was leaning against. She recognized the grey tail curling around her own and it was with a deep, almost panicky relief that she realized he was there.

That almost offended him. Of course he was there, where else would he be? He loved her. Sims thought that it was tempting to want to lean into him a little more, and Embry decided that if Sims wanted to lean on him, then she should. After all, he was her mate, and he was warm, and she was still shaking.

The shaking would go away and so would the confusion, and after he had gently coaxed her out of the hiding spot, he'd even get to nip that tail a couple times on the way back to Seth's. Watching her yelp indignantly and scuttle in front of him would be as fun as he'd thought it would be, and having her flatten herself against his side before licking his throat and jaw would be better. And when she finally, finally phased human again and could stay that way, it was Embry who would still be waiting for her, Embry whose hands would hold her until again the confusion and the shaking went away.

It wasn't what Embry had wanted for them, but this was how it was now. It couldn't be changed, and they would all just have to learn to live with it. He would have to learn to live with it. But just in case anyone ever bothered to ask, Embry had known better.

No one ever asked.


	4. Chapter 4

**TIC Extra #4 "Him"**

**Timeline**: The scene is set prior to TIC, after Leah and Seth first phase. It's a little rough and disjointed, mostly because I think Leah was probably thinking very fast and very frantically back then. Who wouldn't?

**Characters**: Leah

**Rating**: T

**Word Count**: 665

**Warnings**: Strong language

* * *

They were fighting.

The only she-wolf of the Pack was early for the meeting like she always was. And because she was early, she got to hear them fighting. _Again_.

Leah might hate the world, hate the adolescent boys that she could not seem to get away from anymore, hate the voices in her head, hate Emily, and most of all, hate _Sam_, but she didn't like to hear them fight. There was a small part of Leah that couldn't help but feel a little bit vindicated, but that little bit was squashed as the weight of her Alpha's frustration and hurt rolled over her. Sam had hurt her worse, had ripped her fucking heart out and chewed on it like a puppy toy. But he was still her Alpha, and maybe one day in the far off future still her friend, and she didn't want him to hurt. She didn't want anyone to hurt. She especially didn't want herself to hurt.

All things hard to express as they rolled around in her head. She wondered if anyone in her Pack would ever be smart enough to realize that she wasn't just a bitter bitch, she was just a girl who had no fucking idea how to express any of this coherently. All they knew was that she was angry, all they knew was that she was always thinking about him.

Well no shit. He was her Alpha.

They were fighting again, and Leah hated it, and she didn't know why she hated it quite so much, and she didn't know why she spent every single waking moment utterly fixated on Sam. When they had been together, she had loved him, but this was different. This was borderline obsession, and she was a masochist, and she didn't know exactly why she was phased and cringing outside their house, listening to Emily yell at Sam and Sam yell at the wall because god forbid he yell at _Emily_.

She had better places to be than here. She should be at home, trying to convince her brother that he didn't have to suddenly transform from a child to a man overnight. That things broke, like kitchen sinks and air conditioners and people and that Seth didn't have to be the one to figure out how to put that shit back together again. Seth wasn't glue, even if she used him like it, even if they all used him like it, and maybe glue was what Sam and Emily needed because being bound by fate together didn't seem to be making them stick, not nearly well enough.

Leah didn't want them fighting, because if they fought, then that was it for Sam. This was his life, and there was no turning back. Leah's life sucked, but she had hoped on some level that no one ever seemed to realize that Sam would at least be happy in his Leah-happiness-destroying lifestyle. If he wasn't then she was cringing out here for nothing, her whole fucking life had been turned upside down for nothing, and all she was, was another dog in the dirt.

He came outside.

She hated him. She hated him and she hated her and she hated herself too. But Leah was still here, and she probably would be tomorrow because for some unknown goddamn _fucking_ reason she _had_ to be. She had to be, because he was hurt and that wasn't right, and he was her Alpha, and really she didn't have any other place to go anymore anyway.

So she cringed and she growled and she lay at his feet and his hands in her fur felt amazing because they were his and he needed her and she didn't understand anything anymore anyway. She didn't understand how she could even stand for him to touch her, or look at her, or be anywhere close to her. But she was here, because this was where he was, and that's all that mattered.

Because it was _him_.


	5. Chapter 5

**TIC Extra #5 **

**Timeline**: This scene is set just after Lost Chapters: Brady, and has **major spoilers** for both that story and B4. The majority of this was written to "Over You", by Miranda Lambert, but I actually like the version by Cassadee Pope better.

**Characters**: Renesmee, Paul (some Sims and Brady)

**Rating**: T

**Word Count**: 5828

**Warnings**: Child imprint subject matter

* * *

The seasons turned, summer becoming fall, and winter quickly chasing fall's colors away. It wasn't until winter's chill grew warmer, the bite of the wind becoming a pleasant coolness on her cheeks, that Renesmee realized her wolf might not come home.

For a year she had waited patiently. For a year she had waited, with no word other than Jacob's promise that Jack was still alive. For a year that was enough, because she had always secretly believed that her wolf was the bravest and the strongest and the most noble of all the Pack. He was wise and he was kind and he was good, and Renesmee might have been logical enough to know that the good guys didn't always win, but she was young enough to believe that in this case, they would.

Of course they would, because the good guys not winning would mean that her aunt wouldn't come home either, and her family wouldn't stop worrying every day about Alice. They wouldn't stop worrying about an attack from the Volturi that would come upon them blind, and they wouldn't whisper when they thought she was couldn't hear about what would happen to Renesmee if Jack died in his attempts to free their covenmate. But for a year, Renesmee waited, and she believed, and she knew that it would all be just fine. After all, her wolf was everything that a wolf should be, and if there was any of the Pack that could bring Alice safely home, it was Jack. There was nothing that he couldn't do.

It wasn't until the summer sun began to grow warmer, heating the earth and the sea and the sky, that Renesmee realized that she could be wrong.

Her house was quiet when Renesmee murmured to her mother that she was going to La Push, to spend some time with the Pack. At the moment it was only Bella, Renesmee, and Carlisle in Forks. Jasper, driven nearly insane by the loss of his wife, was still trying desperately to find her. Rose and Emmett were with him, still trying to do the same, and a couple days ago, Renesmee's father had flown to Spain with Esme, following up on a lead that might locate their missing coven mate. Carlisle was skilled enough to hide his frustrations from Renesmee most days, but he couldn't hide his fear for his daughter. The only reason why Carlisle wasn't searching too was that he was the strongest of them all, and his proximity to Renesmee and Bella kept them safer, should the Volturi come after their gifts as well.

But it was clear that Carlisle wanted to help with the search, because as always, every time the coven got closer to Alice, it was as if the Volturi knew. It was no wonder why. Alice couldn't stop her visions, even if she was trying to cover them, and all Aro had to do was take Alice's hand, and he would see everything that she had ever seen.

The only one the Volturi wouldn't see coming was Jack. Unfortunately they would smell him a mile away.

Renesmee was a teenager now, her limbs still filled with human blood, her muscles still newborn vampire strong. She was faster than even her father now, not just in a straight line like when she was younger, but also when they darted and changed directions when they ran. No taller than her mother, and slimmer than Bella had been, she was made for speed. It worried the coven when Renesmee left their sight, but patrol routes had changed since Alice had been taken, the Pack shifting to include the part of Forks that the coven lived in. Guarding an imprint, they said, but Renesmee wasn't fooled. Jacob was guarding her mother too.

Currently Bella was seated in front of her computer, doing research to help discover possible Volturi contacts, and she nodded at Renesmee, murmuring only for the young woman to be careful and to wait until one of the wolves was on that section of the patrol route.

Renesmee was always careful when she traveled between the coven and La Push. The last time that she hadn't been, she had nearly gotten herself killed, and had caused her wolf to fight with the current Calgary Alpha. The resulting mess had pulled the Pack from guarding the border, and had enabled Neel to get past them and Alice and allowed him to attack Dr. Foster. Renesmee knew some of that wasn't her fault, but she was aware of the consequences of her actions, and how one decision of one Packmember could start a domino effect in a group as volatile and closely tied together as the wolves and imprints.

She was still enough of the child she had once been to feel deeply guilty about her role in that.

The young woman slipped out of her house, padding manicured bare feet to the wood line on the edge of their equally manicured lawn. This was the lawn that she had stood in and watches snowflakes fall, her wolf at her side. This was the lawn where she had saved a bird from his jaws. This was the lawn where he had stood alone, shielding her in his arms as he held her away from the eyes of both coven and Pack, when Renesmee had been crying from the aftereffects of her growth spurt. This was the lawn where her wolf had first been introduced to her, after their imprinting, and the place where he had protected her and her aunt Alice from Collin, when the younger wolf had lost his mind in the hunt for Neel.

This was the place where he had kept her from chasing Claire, and had placed a cowboy hat over her eyes. A place where he had not wanted to be, because it was a coven, but had spent so much time there because it was where she was. A place where he considered walking on his hands, so his smiles could stay only for her, where he listened to her poems and thoughts and worries, and never fell asleep or dismissed her cares as if they were trivial. A place where an ancient wolf promised a little girl that he would always wipe the tears from her eyes.

"When you are sad, I will put your aching heart to rest," Renesmee murmured to herself, reaching down to touch the blades of grass, the earth that the grass was born from. It was something she told herself every day, letting the memory of her wolf wash over her, trying to find some sort of comfort from it. And as always, she added in a whisper, "Be safe, wolf."

Wolf. Her wolf, Packmate and best friend. Her Mister Jack. Sometime between being the physical age of twelve and the physical age of fifteen, the title had become stuck in her throat. He meant more to her than just a title, but she didn't know him in the same way she knew Jacob and Seth, or any of the others. Her wolf wasn't just Jack; she didn't know who that person was. The older she became, the more Renesmee realized that she didn't really know him at all. But she knew that he was wolf and Pack before anything else, and _her_ wolf and _her_ Pack before even that, so much so that he had chosen helping her and her family over staying with Jacob and the others.

He had always called her "imprint", and it had always been spoken in a way of importance and acceptance and affection. So when she bid him to be safe from an ocean away, Renesmee called him "wolf", with every bit of warmth and trust and hope that she could put in the word.

Maybe she did know him more than she thought, because her heart and her head told her that if Jack had heard, he would have been pleased.

Renesmee didn't know the patrol patterns of that week—they changed often, and Jacob had gently told her that it was safest if only the wolves running knew when and where they would be at any given time—but she knew that it would never be more than a few minutes before she would be able to smell someone from her Pack off in the distance. She would wait until they angled past her coven, and then Renesmee would run, her body flying over the dirt and grass and rocky terrain until she met with whichever wolf it was. She would fall in step beside them, and keep pace until that wolf would loop back around, taking her into the reservation.

It would be so simple in its complexity, how the wolf she was running with would cross paths with another, and then the third, and sometimes even back to the first two again. And eventually she would be escorted deeply enough into the reservation to be where she had intended to go.

It was for everyone's safety that whichever wolf she was visiting stayed with her from then on, but Jacob had made it clear to her that she was always welcome with them, and that he wanted her to come by whenever she started missing Jack. She was young still, and even though her imprint bond with Jack was far heavier on his side than hers, Jacob was worried about the long term effects of Jack's absence on Renesmee. He especially worried about how Renesmee grew quieter with each passing season, more introspective and less forthcoming, and Jacob had ordered her to come to La Push to visit them—and especially to visit _him_—whenever that quietness turned into something different.

There had been many times in her short life that Renesmee had felt sad or worried or lonely. But as she crouched on the grass that held so many of her memories of Jack, Renesmee knew that she had never felt the way missing her wolf made her feel.

The scent of a different wolf filled her nostrils, a warm, earthy scent that Renesmee had always loved. Unlike her family, the wolves didn't smell badly to Renesmee, and Renesmee didn't smell badly to the wolves, although she spent enough time with both Pack and coven to carry over the scents of both on her skin. It often made Renesmee uncomfortable, knowing that the people she cared about most in the world often wrinkled their noses or sneezed when she came into the room, but there was only so much she could do about it. The scent of her family would be especially distracting to this particular wolf, but Renesmee knew that the wolf caught _her_ scent on the breeze and angled deeper towards the coven in response.

Renesmee was fast, but this wolf was like the wind, and she smiled as she pressed her palm down into the grass one last time, counting in her head. One…so that her Packmate could cross the old border, a small ravine cut through the land by a quick running stream. Two…because her Packmate always took the harder path up the nearly vertical rock wall, claws digging into the earth as the wolf leapt from one small outcropping to the next. Three…and Renesmee better be ready to spring, because this one always ended up lost in the thrill of the run, and would blow past this place faster than any of the others, not even realizing what it was she did.

Three was when Renesmee should have moved, but Jacob's imprint wasn't the only one that loved to run. Just because she could, Renesmee waited until she counted to four.

The she-wolf made a hard right, and Renesmee was flying too, a streak of bronze curls and pale flesh, bare feet and designer jeans. For a moment the dark chocolate wolf and the half vampire ran parallel with each other, muscles bunching and stretching as they found and matched each other's speed. But then, because Sims liked to run tight to her Packmates, tighter than even the others, the she-wolf leapt ahead. Renesmee expected it when the she-wolf swung into Renesmee's path, and she in turn did the same Sims' way.

The young woman ran with her Pack now, ever since she could no longer walk or run with her own wolf, and she was used to fur brushing her legs and arms and elbows as she did so. But Sims ran even closer than that, her shoulder on Renesmee's hip, weight pushing into Renesmee's own. The first time Sims had done this, it had made the young woman stumble and fall, but this time she simply reached her hand over to grip into the dark fur of her Packmate's ruff.

Renesmee wanted to know if Sims was any faster than she had been last week. Renesmee was pretty sure that she herself had grown a few more feathers, and was about to take wing. In reply, the she-wolf let out a playful growl, bumping hard into Renesmee as she dug into the earth beneath them. Renesmee had been ready for it, using her grip on Sims to keep her balance even as she skipped half a step and matched the other's speed.

They said that they could feel her in the Packmind when she did this, that when she opened herself up to one of the wolves through the contact of her palm that she joined them. Renesmee's gift was only one-sided, so she didn't know, but she trusted them when they said such things. They were her friends, and she had no reason to do anything but trust them. They were her Pack, and she had been shown that like her family, Pack was a good thing. Pack kept you fed when you were hungry, Pack held you when you were lonely or worried or scared. Pack kept you safe from harm when there were ones that wanted to hurt you. She loved them, each and every one of them, and she wanted to be those things for them too.

She appreciated that they went out of their ways to help her not feel so…whatever this way that she felt right now. Renesmee especially appreciated it because she knew she was a burden to her Pack, even as she tried not to be. Jacob, as always, told her that she worried too much, but she was no longer a small child that could be easily convinced to set her worries aside because she was told to.

It had helped far more when Seth told her that she was more like her wolf than she knew.

Renesmee's hand was still on Sims, but on the she-wolf's hip now, because she was getting outrun. It wasn't a big deal, Renesmee liked Sims very much, and she was Jacob's imprint, meaning that she was important to them all. But that didn't mean that Renesmee wanted to be left behind, and when one ran with she-wolves, they'd better understand that the only ones that she-wolves wouldn't leave behind when they ran were each other. The young woman had once thought a long time ago that she could never be a she-wolf, but this day Renesmee decided that if she could be a raven, she could be other things too, if she simply allowed herself to do so.

In a momentary flight of fancy, Renesmee put on her imaginary paws, and this time when she ran, there would be no leaving her behind.

They streaked across the ground, keeping that contact of Renesmee's palm to Sims' hip, her back, and then finally to her neck again. And then it was the she-wolf that had to add a few more feathers because Renesmee's wolf was wrong. Some of the best birds were the ones that flew away, because they were even better when they came back again. After all, Jacob's imprint had come home, and she was happier now than she had once been. Now she stood next to Jacob without looking so guarded, sometimes touched his hand, and almost always smiled at his jokes. And when the Alpha made a big enough idiot of himself, Sims even laughed with her eyes instead of just her mouth.

Renesmee had only heard the sound once, the day Jack had left her, but sometimes when she ran, the young woman could almost hear Jack's own laughter on the wind.

Abruptly they were over the border into the Pack's territory, and a second wolf was running with them. This one was one of the few that could make the she-wolf slow enough to let him run at her side. As if the red wolf could hear her thoughts, he made an annoyed snarling sound and stretched out low to the ground, his larger body just barely keeping pace. Amusement filled her and Renesmee laughed when Sims yipped playfully in warning. The young woman ducked just in time to have a she-wolf jump over her back and onto the red wolf's own. With a bark of surprise, Brady and Sims went down in a pile of tails and paws and muzzles, and Renesmee would have stopped and waited for them—she really wasn't a she-wolf, no matter how pretty her freshly painted paws looked that day—but someone else was there.

Her wolf had once told her that it was good to run with Pack, but he particularly enjoyed running with his Third. The grey wolf that met her wasn't on patrol, Renesmee knew that right away. Paul had stopped by the coven that morning already, and it had been his wrist that she had dipped her head to and drank from, those few important sips of wolfblood that helped her so much in controlling her thirst. He had mentioned that he would be off patrol that day, and was trying to figure out a way to duck going with his wife to Seattle. Maybe Collin would go with Cass instead.

Cassie was once again allowed to spend time there with her old friends, as long as she was accompanied by a wolf, of course. Ever since Brady and Owen had eliminated the threat that had been over Cassie's head for years, Paul's imprint had become safer, as safe as any of the imprints were. In being imprints, they were a vulnerability of the wolves and could be targeted by the Pack's enemies…a lesson that Jacob had learned early and learned well.

Renesmee knew more about that day than the Pack realized, and it made her sad that any of her Pack would have had to hurt someone. But Neel had taught her that there were truly bad people out there, and sometimes it was better to make sure those bad people could never hurt the good ones again. Renesmee had always been taught that hurting humans was wrong, and she wished that those bad people could have been put in jail instead of what had happened to them, but Brady had always been very nice to her, and Owen even more so. Her father had told her that when an imprint was involved, the wolves don't stop to think, they just acted.

It was one of the things that had made them so worried at first about Jack.

Paul knew her well enough to know that she sometimes thought too much, too fast, and Renesmee knew that his wife had often been described as the same. So like the Qa'al he was, Paul patiently waited until she was done thinking, and when she smiled at him and reached out her hand, this time it was a massive grey wolf that ran at her side, easily skimming the earth as she tightened her fingers into his soft fur.

Paul wasn't as fast as Sims and didn't bump into her as hard, but he did play with her as they ran, leading her through the most complicated terrain and making her work for it if she wanted to keep her hand on him. He'd dart to the left, then cut to the right, leaping forward only to double back, and Renesmee was laughing breathlessly by the time he finally settled into an easy run, leading her on a circle around the reservation. It was an old patrol route, one that they used to run back when Sam had been the Alpha, and the wolf next to her glanced at her when she thought it.

Renesmee wasn't so different from the child she had used to be, even if she looked more like the woman she would one day become, and worried she started to close her hand to take her thoughts from the Packmind. They didn't like her knowing about the patrol routes now—perhaps old routes still counted as patrol routes—and she had broken an unspoken rule.

This time Paul did bump into Renesmee, hard enough that she did have to grip him to stay on her feet and causing her palm to press against him again. Renesmee decided that if Jack was content doing as his Third told him, Jack's imprint would be content to do the same, but it would be difficult to think and jog slowly like this, when she was used to thinking and running instead. Paul made a noise that sounded like offense, playfully snapping his jaws as he lunged forward, stretching out the way that Brady had.

This time when amusement curled through her belly, she could almost feel it echoed by the amusement of something else, something that whispered on the wind.

Renesmee knew that her wolf believed that the spirits of the world and the ancestors of his people spoke to him. She wasn't Quileute, so she doubted that the ancestors would ever say something to someone like her, but as she ran at her Packmate's side, a raven shed its feathers and imagined them floating in the breeze, imagined that breeze liking her feathers enough to speak to her in return. She would ask them if her wolf was okay, and if he would ever return to her.

_The Tlokwali would always return to their mates if able, _the wind told her, its own paws echoing her heartbeat._ And if the ancient one was unable, they would add their own strength to his own. The ancient one had protected them and their mate, and such was the way of the Tlokwali to do the same for him and his. _

Startled, Renesmee stumbled, nearly failing in her attempt to right herself before falling on her face. The grey wolf had stopped as well, and then he turned. Paul's eyes were the color of dark honey, but for a moment his eyes were a bright brilliant blue, like those of the wolfborn that had attacked her. Only unlike them, that blue was gone as the Third blinked and then phased.

Renesmee had learned that her Packmates would phase in front of her if they had to, but that they preferred the privacy of not being naked in front of anyone not a wolf. At least, not in that way. Renesmee knew that some of them, Collin in particular, quite enjoyed being naked during other situations. Paul however was the epitome of what was proper, and she had never seen him undressed. That he did so now was a sign that something important had just happened.

She had listened to the wind, and it had spoken to her. Half of the young woman believed without a shadow of a doubt that it was scientifically impossible for that to have happened, for so many different reasons that it would take a month to list them all. But there was another half to the young woman, a half that had spent every waking moment of nearly two years tied to someone in a way so inexplicable yet so all-encompassing that she felt…without her wolf there, Renesmee felt...the way she felt now that Jack was gone. And she had believed that something her wolf believed in so much couldn't possibly _not_ exist, not when he was so brave and so sure and so strong.

However, this was the first time she had proof.

"Paul?" Renesmee asked softly, looking at the wolf that stood in front of her, the older man unstrapping his jeans from his thigh and pulling them over his hips. She didn't watch, necessarily, because that was inappropriate, but she did hold his eyes, eyes that had once again returned to dark honey.

The Third zipped his jeans, buttoning them as he chose his words. "I'm supposed to tell you that drawing the attention of the spirit world is something that should only be done with care and proper preparation. Since the only one alive that knows the safest ways to do so is Chibód, it would be better for you to not tempt them." Paul pursed his lips and then added, "Personally I think that even Jack's not safe from them."

Renesmee realized that she had been holding her breath, and then she sank down to her heels, considering what it was that Paul had just said. "My wolf says that the Tlokwali are both the spirit of man and the spirit of wolf bound as one." She raised her eyes to Paul. "Did your wolf spirit just speak to me, Paul?"

"Ness, I'm not going to answer that," Paul said. "You're far too curious for your own good, and it's true that the spirit world can be dangerous. But if he did, it's because he likes Jack, and that means he's going to watch out for you, the same way Jack's always watched out for Cass. He likes running with you both."

She smiled at that shyly. "I like running with you…and with him as well, Paul."

Paul's sudden smile was stunning, even more so because it made his stern countenance warm and extremely appealing. "I'm also supposed to tell you that running with you is even better than running with your wolf, Ness. Jack's fast, but you're fast and pretty. You should keep your paws on more often."

The young woman flushed at that, cheeks turning bright red. It had become a new thing, the male wolves teasing her about how she looked these days, although never in a way that made her uncomfortable. Their attention was meant kindly, and Renesmee was not so blind that she didn't notice the attention started coming after she started worrying that Jack would think she looked too much like a vampire when he returned.

It was Collin who had started the whole thing, lavishing compliments on her mercilessly, and Brady had jumped on the bandwagon right afterwards. Once the Alpha joined in, the whole Pack followed suit, and it seemed like Renesmee couldn't get through a single day without one of them making her blush.

Apparently now Paul's wolf had decided to join in on the fun.

Still blushing, Renesmee began to walk, knowing that the large wolf would fall into step next to her. Paul did just that, and they walked in silence for a long time. Her wolf had been the same way, always so quiet when they walked together, although Renesmee sometimes winced at how much louder Paul was when he stepped than her wolf had been. It was a small thing, but it was a difference between them and Renesmee noticed it. Each day there were a hundred things, most small, some barely even worth noticing, but all slightly different from how life with Jack there had been.

The difference was what was slowly twisting up her insides, making her feel so…so…

"I miss him today."

Renesmee's head came up at Paul's words, and she didn't realize until then that she had fallen a step behind, letting him lead her as she lost herself in her thoughts. Paul's broad back was free of the scarring that rested so heavily across her own wolf's back. Of all the wolves, only Owen and Callie were free from it.

Jacob still had a pale silvery scar across his abdomen that he'd gotten down in Mexico, and Seth had a deep scar across his chest and torso. Sam and Jared had marks on their arms and necks and backs, remnants of the Pack from before Jacob's rules about Packmates fighting. Almost invisible to the human eye, but Renesmee could see them. Embry had a few, from a fight with Seth and Sam a long time ago, and Quil from protecting Claire from a pair of vampires a couple years ago. Paul and Leah each had a scar on their necks. Sims had come back from Argentina with a series of battle wounds that still made Jacob mad when he looked at them too long, and Choˀcho—the Argentina wolf—had multitudes more. Choˀcho could barely use his left arm, it had been mangled so badly before he had joined Jacob's Pack.

Collin had taken some serious damage while killing Neel, the vampire that had nearly killed Seth. And Brady…Brady's scars were outside and inside, and everywhere in between.

That broad, unscarred back in front of her stopped, and Paul looked up at the sycamore trees above their heads. It was drizzling that day, and from high above them, water pooled on leaves and limbs, dripping down to the forest floor below. Renesmee raised her face to the sky, eyes tracking what Paul was seeing, wondering if it was any different than what she saw, wondering if what they saw was anything close to what her wolf would see.

"I used to wake up and check on Cass, and then check on Collin," Paul told her, his low rumbling voice drawing her attention back to him. "And when I knew they were both okay, I'd check on Jack. It was how I spent every morning. Cass, Collin, Jack. But I can reach out and touch Cass each morning, and as fast as Collin's jumping rank, he's not going to need me checking on him much longer. Jack was the one that needed me to check on him, the one that needed someone to notice that he was around and who cared if he wasn't okay. He needed us so much, almost as much as we needed him. When I reach for him and he's not there, it makes me miss him."

Renesmee listened to Paul, understanding, because she had learned to listen with both her ears and her eyes, and her heart.

Paul closed his eyes, and then he smiled slightly. "I never would have thought Jack would be willing to leave the Pack to go find your aunt. Not when it meant so much to him to be Pack, not when he loves Jake so much. But he would have, for you, because he loved you even more than he loved Jake, Nessie."

Renesmee had closed her eyes too, finding that tears were welling in them, dripping from her own leaves and limbs, down to the earth below. The earth that always waited.

"I always checked on him, and it's such a habit that I keep doing it even now. He's been gone a year and I still try to find Jack through the Packbonds every morning, because it's my instinct to protect him. But I don't think Jack ever needed protection from any of us. He just needed to have people to care about, who cared about him. The rest of the world he could handle just fine on his own, as long as he had a place in it that mattered. You understand what I'm trying to say, don't you kid?"

The young woman nodded, wiping her tears from her own eyes. "He's gone because he's trying to help me and my family."

"Jack's gone because he _loves_ you enough to help your family. And he's going to come home because of the same reason. You're his imprint, Ness, and Jack isn't going to let you spend the rest of your life running alone. He's run alone for too long, and he won't do that to you. Right now is hard, but it's just right now. That's the good part about life, Ness. If you just keep living it, you'll see that the bad can get better."

Renesmee touched Paul's arm with her hand. He sounded like his imprint.

"Yeah…Cass has kind of made an optimist out of me. I'm still trying to make a realist out of her, but I'm losing that battle."

She liked that he sounded like his imprint, and she was grateful that he had spoken what he had said. She wanted so desperately for the bad to get better. And the bad was better already, because Paul was telling her that one day, her wolf would come back to her. And she wouldn't feel…she wouldn't feel so incredibly…

A large, warm hand slipped through hers, squeezing. "Incomplete, Nessie. You won't always feel so incomplete."

And she wasn't, not really, not when she had Sims to race through the woods with, and Collin to tease her, and Jacob to want her around. Not when she had a Packmate to hold her hand as she cried slow, silent tears, tears that she wiped away herself, because her wolf wasn't there to wipe them away for her. And when those tears were too many, she would have a Paul to take her in his arms, hugging her until the worst of her loneliness went away.

It would eventually, because Renesmee was an optimist too, and she knew that there were better ways to miss her wolf than to simply be sad. Standing outside Seth Clearwater's house, Jack had taught her that. There were better ways to love someone than this.

So Renesmee knelt down to the earth and took it in her hand, and as she let it fall between her fingertips, Renesmee silently promised her best friend that even though they walked this path far from each other's sides, they were never alone. That was what their imprinting meant.

The Third watched, because that's what Third's did, and when he nodded his approval at her strength, it made Renesmee feel even stronger.

As she rose, the young woman remembered something else that Paul had said, something that lingered in the back of her mind. Something that finished drying her eyes, making her lean back and look up at the wolf that had just held her.

"Paul? Who's Chibód?"

The Third just smiled and took Renesmee's hand, squeezing it. "If I'm lucky, Ness, maybe one day you'll be willing to tell me."

This time Renesmee was the one that smiled, letting the Third draw her in towards the reservation, where the Alpha was sure to have been told she was coming. Jacob was undoubtedly wondering what was taking her so long.

It seemed that for some things, they would all simply have to wait and see.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N I actually wrote this for a 2011 Livejournal Valentine's Day writing challenge, so it's not new to some of you. But I like Seth/Sims friendship scenes, so I decided to post it here as canon. Thanks for all the reviews and also the kind comments that have been coming in pm's. It's been a very warm welcome back. :)

**TIC Extra #5: A Good Day**

**Timeline**: This scene is set in B1, before Sims and Embry's first official date, and before she knows about the Pack.

**Characters**: Sims, Seth

**Rating**: T

**Word Count**: 2241

**Warnings**: Underage drinking, child neglect

* * *

It was nearing the end of a long day, a day that couldn't be over soon enough.

Samantha spent a lot of time sitting on her father's front porch, staring at this new world around her. Blacktop and steel had been replaced by forests and earth, and it may have been a concrete jungle back there, but at least it was a jungle Samantha knew how to navigate. This one, not so much. There was a young man down the road, and he spent most of his time not being there much, but when he was, the lanky youth would drape himself along the porch steps and he would stare at the world around him.

Considering that his relaxed smile was so much different from her tighter one, Samantha was pretty sure that this young man's point of view was a little different than hers. Samantha had been exiled from her world. Seth Clearwater seemed quite content to rule his.

It was February, she'd been here a few weeks now, and it was only starting to sink in that she wasn't going to wake up tomorrow in her own bed, in her own home, with her mother and her things and her life back. But Samantha was headed places, had dreams and goals and she was determined to think of La Push as a pit stop. She was here on leave, and then she'd leave and never look back. The young man on the porch had just kicked off his shoes and was draped a little more thoroughly.

He wasn't planning on going anywhere.

Samantha turned her eyes away from the Clearwater home, glancing inside her own. Her father's friends hadn't come over tonight, but Joe Carter was already passed out on the couch, a bottle of Jack Daniels lying empty beside him. It had been mostly empty when he had passed out, and Samantha didn't make a habit of drinking often, but it had been a rough couple of months. Plus she had been hungry and the house was gutted, and she figured it would take the edge off.

She could still taste the sweetness of the whiskey on her tongue, could still feel the warmth in her chest where it had settled after burning its way down her throat.

Sometimes on evenings like this, Samantha could close her eyes and smile and hear the rumble of the Chicago Metra trains passing beneath her bedroom window. She could hear her mother's voice singing in the hallway, and the laughter of her friends' voices on the phone. But it would never last. When she opened them again, she would always hear her father snoring drunkenly. At least tonight it was softer, soft enough to hear an owl hooting somewhere on the roof.

A wolf howled off in the distance, a deep resonating noise that made the hair on the back of her neck rise in warning, with a second one singing mournfully afterwards. The young man on the porch smiled and lifted his own face to the sky, as if adding his silent voice to their song.

Out here there wasn't a night that went by where she didn't hear a wolf howl. Samantha wasn't sure why that bothered her as much as it did, but instinct made her stand and consider going back inside. But it was one of those nights, the kind where a restless girl had prowled the dangerous west side of Chi-Town, counting on her head and her street smarts to keep her out of too much trouble. Prowling the woods was stupid, Samantha could disarm a man holding a knife on her without a lot of trouble, but wolves were different. They would run you down, corner you, surround you…slice you up until you couldn't run anymore and then as a group take you down. Samantha didn't feel like getting eaten up tonight.

Walking the streets, even in a place like La Push, was at least something she could still do.

The guy of the porch gave her an easy smile when she passed by his house. Since this wasn't Chicago, and he wasn't going to try and sell her drugs or steal the money tucked in her back pocket, Samantha gave him a smile in return. Smiles used to stay on her face all the time, but these days they were rare. These days she was looked at as if she was unfriendly, as if she was cold and hard…and maybe she was but Samantha wasn't trying to be. She was just…alone. And that changed a person.

Seth Clearwater had never been alone, had never been unfriendly a day in his life, and he knew how to be strong without being cold or hard. But the young man on the porch was not the younger girl from the streets, and he had never been too nervous to step off the path that was familiar and give the wolves something of worth to hunt. He led the hunts, he circled the prey, and he would take down each and every one with a kind smile on his face.

"Want some chocolate, new girl?"

A dangerous hunter indeed.

"I don't take candy from strangers," Samantha decided, glancing at the large red box beside him. It had a tag on it, something about a secret admirer, and Samantha chuckled. "Although apparently you do, Seth Clearwater."

Seth smirked and patted the porch step next to him. "It could be that I sent it to myself, Sims. And I have it on a very good authority that when it comes to stranger danger, Seth Clearwater is safe and sound. Want some chocolate?"

She was hungry. Really hungry, actually, and the sour and sweet taste of the whiskey was unpleasant on her tongue. The chocolate was smooth instead, rich and sugary, but in a better way. There were no cars to watch pass on the road, no people to glance at, no laughter coming from the street. This was not normal, this was not home. Samantha had never had whiskey for dinner, and it was possible that she was more like her father than her mother had given her credit for.

When her stomach rumbled, Seth jiggled the box pointedly. Just to hold her own, Samantha politely declined. No charity cases here, just bored girls on a weekend night.

"So you and Embry, huh?" Samantha looked up from her thoughts and saw Seth watching her, a playful grin on his lips. "Should we tell him now or later that you're actually desperately in love with me?"

Samantha smirked at that, chose not to acknowledge that which the whole school was convinced of, and started folding the paper candy wrapper in her hand absently. "You know, I could actually believe that you would send chocolates to yourself, Seth. Do you write yourself love poetry as well?"

Her neighbor was a huge guy, tall and muscular, but he was leaning back on his elbows as he sprawled more completely and it made her head higher than his. Seth looked at her and winked. "Valentine's Day is the day of ultimate romance, Sims. Guys like to be romanced too, even if it's only from the handsome devil staring back through the mirror. Who knows? I might even get lucky later."

Samantha shuddered at that one. "Listen Clearwater, what you and your hand do in your own spare time is between you and…you. Hey, you washed up before opening this box of chocolates, right?"

Seth barked out a laugh at that and then grinned at her again. "And if I didn't?" Samantha opened her mouth to say something, but her stomach rumbled again, and his grin fell a little, his eyes hardening and his facial muscles stiffening. He recovered quickly, once more adopting that easy smile, but there was a moment where Samantha wondered if she'd seen a different Seth Clearwater.

"If you didn't, then I'm avoided the cream filled ones," Samantha joked and Seth snickered.

"I did," he promised her, shaking the box at her again, "And even my aim isn't that good."

Samantha pretended to gag as he grinned cheekily at her, waving the box of chocolates in his face, and after a moment of strength, Samantha caved to the candy. "Seth-ed" or not, it tasted good. Three pieces in, none of which were cream filled, she started to set it back down, but Seth rose and walked into his house, coming back out with a large jar of homemade applesauce and a massive spoon. He seemed content to be eating that instead, and when Samantha passed him back the chocolates, he pushed the applesauce her way.

"This is good," Samantha told him, deciding that the chocolates were tasty, but that the chunky fruity concoction was better, and definitely more filling. Seth nodded.

"Yep. Mom can make some awesome shit, that's for sure," Seth declared, once again relaxing into his sprawl. "You know, in about fifteen minutes it's going to be Valentine's Day."

Samantha smirked around the spoon, mouth full of applesauce. "And we care, why?" she mumbled around her food, and Seth chuckled, tossing a dark chocolate covered cherry up in the air and catching it deftly. He swallowed and then gave her a small smile.

"Because in exactly fifteen minutes, you're going to have a good day," Seth said matter-of-factly. "In fact, you're going to have a _very_ good day. Which means that the reason why your breath smells like whiskey under the that chocolate, and the reason why you're hungry, and the reason why you can't sleep even though we have school in a few hours…those things aren't going to matter in few minutes. Tomorrow's not going to be like today. Tomorrow's going to be a good day."

Samantha didn't know what to say to that, didn't know how to handle being called out like that, wondered exactly what Seth meant. It was easier to look at a world filled with things, things that could distract you, and here on the porch was only Seth and herself and Seth was currently looking her way.

"Today was okay," was all Samantha could say, and she considered going home, but Seth tugged her ponytail and it distracted her and then he raised his face back to the night sky, that star filled sky that seemed to stretch on forever. Finally Samantha leaned over and poked his shoulder with the end of her spoon. "What about for you, Seth Clearwater? In fifteen-"

"Thirteen," Seth interrupted helpfully, and Samantha rolled her eyes.

"Okay, in _thirteen_ minutes, what will it be like for you? What will your day be?"

Seth closed his eyes, and Samantha wondered if he knew the wolves were howling again, or that this place was so empty, and she had only known small places filled with lots of things, and that this world was unnatural. He must not have. The young man on the porch smiled.

"It will be one more day," he said softly, his voice grateful, as if that was all that he needed it to be. They were quiet for a while and then he chuckled. "Until then I get to spend today with you, Sims. Do you want to hear my poem I wrote for me?"

"No, Seth."

"Are you sure? It's reeeeally good."

"_No_, Seth. Trust me, _no_."

"I'll tell you anyways. Roses are red, violets are blue, Seth Clearwater is so deliciously sweet, that it makes me want to-"

Samantha was on her feet before he could finish, tilting her arm towards herself and glancing at a watch that wasn't there. "Gosh, look at the time. It's almost Valentine's Day, and man, you and your hand have some things to do. I'll be going now, but thanks for…you know…and the mental images…so yeah…and eww. Eww, Seth, eww." With that, she fled, leaving Seth Clearwater and his chocolates and his easy smile to himself.

Her neighbor's laughter followed her all the way home. She left the applesauce jar still half full on the porch steps, and Samantha had no clue that Seth understood her far too well to force her to take it home. So she took her walk, and she went the other way, away from Seth's house, although she never shook the feeling that someone was watching her. Later Samantha sat on her father's porch swing and she thought about the things that she wished she could have still had a chance to say, to the people that never did get another day.

Samantha would wake up the next morning to a small pink teddy bear, one that had been carefully placed in her arms while she slept. It would be the first of many things that would make her smile that day, and it would make her forget yesterday, the day of the whiskey and the chocolate and the applesauce. And if she never knew that Seth Clearwater gave up a night's sleep, his mother's last jar of applesauce, and his only box of chocolates for a girl who would only really see one person in the coming years, well, that was okay. Seth would do many unnoticed things for many unaware people, and he would do so because he loved them, but he was content to love them in the ways that they needed.

The wolf on the porch closed his eyes and smiled. It had been a good day.


	7. Chapter 7

**TIC Extra #7**

**Timeline**: The scene is set during TIC: B2, while Paul and Cassie take Sims and Jack on their road trip.

**Characters**: Embry, Jake

**Rating**: T

**Word Count**: 2263

**Warnings**: Mild language, references to euthanasia

* * *

He was standing on the cliffs of their tribal home, taking deep breaths to control the fear that showed in his chocolate eyes. A storm was coming, rolling in from the west, dark clouds across the ocean, but it wasn't the only storm that was coming.

Today Embry Call was a storm all of his own.

It was a hard thing for Jake to watch, knowing that he had absolutely no control of the outcome. They had decided that the only way for Embry to keep control of his wolf was to let it loose, let it free, and to teach himself to both live with it and control it at the same time. But both brothers knew that the instant Embry let the wolf go completely, he might never get himself back again. And if that happened, Embry had both stubbornly and bravely made Jake promise to kill him to keep everyone safe from him, especially Samantha. But just because he was brave enough to do it, didn't mean that Embry wanted to die.

It was hard to watch, from where the Alpha stood several yards off to the side, but it was even harder to watch Embry run his thumb over the creased photo he kept tucked in his back pocket. It was a picture of Embry and Samantha on a little boat, their cheeks pressed together and their mouths making fishy faces. His girl and his brother…those were the only two things Embry had brought up here today, asking that the rest of the Pack stay away. Jake knew that they would try, but if things got bad, they wouldn't be able to help themselves. Already, Seth and Leah were prowling the woods around them, worried and unable to separate themselves from their worry.

Worry was a soft term for it. All of them, even Jake, especially Jake, were scared.

The crinkling of paper pulled the Alpha's attention, and he saw that Embry was looking at his picture again. Emb had shown it to Jake, and it was the only time Jake had seen Samantha's eyes looking soft and happy. Jake's imprint was a pretty girl when she was happy, unfortunately Jake seemed to have only brought out the ugly in her.

He had to give her credit. Breaking her arm might have been ridiculously stupid, but her point had been made. Jake wasn't dealing with a passively weak girl who would lie down and take his orders the way the rest of them did. The low murmur of her in his soul told him this volcano still hadn't come close to bursting. Samantha's fight for Embry wasn't anywhere close to what she was capable of, and Jake wasn't sure whether or not to be impressed or horrified by it. One thing was for certain, if he loved his brother and if he wanted to be good to his imprint, separating them until Embry could stand back on his own two feet was necessary.

A man needed a good woman at his side, but men like them couldn't live behind one's back. Sam would never hide behind Emily, Jared and Paul would always put themselves between Kim and Cassie and the world, and Embry was pre-dispositioned to protect Samantha. The poor guy had it on three levels, the need to protect his Alpha's imprint, the need to protect his blood's imprint, and the need to protect his own girl, the girl he loved. Jake hadn't thought this through, how the three things would affect Embry. He was being pulled too hard at Samantha, and it was causing problems. Maybe the wolf inside had known Samantha was Pack even before it had been cemented. Maybe Jake should have told Embry everything from the first.

Maybe Jake was an even crappier Alpha than he was a brother. Maybe if he had, he wouldn't be standing up here, trying to hide the fact that he was trembling with the weight of his own actions. Yeah, Jake hadn't had any choice in the matter, but it didn't change what he had done to Embry. And if his brother was going to die today, he needed to know partly what for.

"Embry?"

"Yeah?" His head was bent, and Embry was just staring at the picture, barely blinking.

"I'm pretty sure I know what Samantha told you that set you off," Jake said softly, and Embry turned his head. "And I'm guessing your wolf wasn't very accepting of it. Or maybe it was a defense mechanism from you yourself, I don't know."

Maybe someone else would have demanded to know, but Embry just grunted. His face was grim as he fingered the photo again.

"Is it something I _should_ know?" Embry asked in a quiet voice, "Or is it one of those things that's better to not? Because I'm all for honesty, but I'm more for not losing my damn mind." Embry's eyes rose to Jake's. "I gotta admit, Jake, before I was pretty freaked out. But seeing Sims like that, how desperate she looked, how messed up she was…maybe being in the dark is better if it keeps her safe from me."

"Seth and Paul already know, and the rest of them either know or suspect, so you need to know too. Samantha's my imprint, Embry."

Apparently Embry's wolf was more scared of facing Jake alone than it was in hiding the information from him. Embry stared at Jake for a long, hard moment, and then he bowed his head. It was the first time Jake had ever seen his brother cry. His tears were silent, but that didn't make them any less real, and Jake waited until Embry stopped trembling enough to be able to speak again. It took a long time.

"Well, then I guess it's good I told her I needed time, huh?" Embry whispered lifelessly, wiping at his face roughly with one hand. "I guess that explains the whole breaking her arm thing, huh? To keep you off me. Fuck, Jake. I'm sorry, I wouldn't have…if I had _known_…"

"You probably would have felt the same about her as you do now, Emb," Jake said gently. "Because the girl's in love with you. She's Pack and she's Pack so strongly that it would have been hard for you to not be drawn to her. She's been disrupting all of us from the beginning, making the less dominant wolves uncomfortable, making the strongest ones grow attached to her. Hell, the only one that seems mostly unaffected by her is Paul, that's why I put her with him for now, while we get you figured out, man. Paul will be good for her, and maybe without her around, we'll figure out how to make _you_ good for her too."

The dead look in Embry's eyes wavered as hope took a tentative foothold. "Jake? What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that after the other day, Samantha Carter has cemented herself as my ideal imprint. Neither one of us want anything to do with each other, at least not romantically. But she is my imprint, meaning that I'm not letting her near you if you're not safe." Jake slanted a sideways look at Embry. "What's interesting to me about it all is that she's convinced that we're out to get you. That little girl threw down over you, Emb, when she hates everyone else's guts. How did you pull that off anyway?"

"Jake? You really want me to tell you how I fell in love with…with your imprint?" Embry stumbled over the words, and Jake grinned at him.

"Nope. I want you to tell me how your _girlfriend_ fell in love with _you_, because I gotta admit, finding out a way to soften some of her harder edges could help this Pack a lot. It's a little embarrassing to be the Alpha and have your imprint attempting to beat the whole Pack up out of sheer spite."

"It's not spite," Embry said quietly, wiping his face again. "It's fear. I'm the only thing she's got, and she's scared of losing me. She could survive alone, Sims is tough as hell, but she's so lonely. And it makes sense, her being so upset recently, if she thought your imprinting would mean we would be over. Thanks for telling me right away, asshole."

"You're only over if you can't get your shit together, and as for the rest of it, little brothers are a pain in the ass, huh?" Embry actually half smiled at that, and Jake gave him a reassuring look. "Emb, the imprints don't get used to being Pack. They _are_ Pack, and that need to be with each other is built in to them just like it's built into us. If Samantha doesn't know how to not be alone, but she's supposed to be Pack, it makes sense that she's having a hard time. But being around you and only you is helping her isolate, and it's fucking you up when you need to focus on you. This isn't punishment."

"Does she see it that way?"

"No clue. Like I said, she wants nothing to do with me. All I know is that her arm hurts, she misses you, and she stopped being thirsty ten minutes ago. But I would say that she's not on the same wavelength as me with this. You never did tell me how to soften those edges."

Embry sighed and straightened.

"It's us, Jake. We did that to her," he said, then his eyes narrowed. "Actually, you guys did that to her. At the beginning she was reserved, quiet, lonely, and a little hard, but you guys made her a fucking stone. That day up on the cliffs, you guys pushed her in the wrong places, you changed her, showed her that sheer strength of will isn't enough. You didn't break her, not completely, but you came close. And she hasn't bounced back. You're asking her to depend on people who hurt her, who threatened her, and you ordered it. She never liked the idea of imprinting, and she's the most loyal girl I've ever known. Damn, the more I think about it…with what's been going on with me, I'd say you guys are lucky she hasn't actually managed to off one of you yet. Better warn the pups, they're most vulnerable."

"Is she that good?" Jake asked, intending it to be a joke and finding that his voice was completely serious. That _he_ was completely serious.

Embry snorted under his breath, and shook his head. "Ever snapped your own arm just to prove a fucking point, Jake?"

"Touché.

"Dude, you don't even know what that means."

"Yeah I do."

"What does it mean?"

"It means I'm the Alpha, and you're not, so shut up. I'll blame that on your wolf being off his rocker, Emb, but no more freebies after this."

A small chuckle from Embry, and then quietness. Finally he sighed. "Jake? Do you really want to know how I got the girl?"

"Yeah. I really want to know."

"I got her because I never betrayed her. I have her loyalty because I'm loyal to her. I have her trust because I have trust in her in return…well founded too because you can't have imprinted on her before the day you came back and we had everything happen the next day. If I really lost control because of this, well then, she didn't even last a whole day keeping it from me. And there aren't hard edges when she looks at me, there's just Sims, my girl. Your girl, I guess. Fuck, that sucks."

"Embry," Jake said very firmly. "We're not spending the next fifty years fighting over this. You know me. If I want a girl, I'll throw down over her, I'll go to the ends of the earth and back for her. But Samantha's not that girl. I don't know why I imprinted on her, but that instant attraction? It's not there. I can respect her gutsiness, and maybe if she was in my corner, I'd appreciate it the way you do. I'm completely locked in on her all the time, even when I tried to shut down the imprint with her, but I don't want her the way you think I do."

His brother closed his eyes. "It can't really be that easy, Jake."

"It won't be. I just…I think I just want her to be happy so I can continue being myself, and I _know_ I want you to be happy. And I need you both to be safe, so we need to do this." His voice softened, and Jake walked over to Embry's side, putting a hand on his shoulder.

He was the Alpha, and he had to say it, even if he was shaking with the need to protect his brother, his Packmate, his friend. "Emb…we need to do this. For our people, for our Pack, and for her. We _have_ to do this, even if neither of us want to. And if it goes bad, I'm going to take care of it. I'll take care of you, and her, and it'll all be okay. Don't be scared."

"I know."

Silence, and then Embry turned, hooking an arm around Jake's shoulders. For a moment, they stayed like that, older brother and younger one, both taking deep, steadying breaths. And then Embry pressed his girl into his brother's hand and walked away from both, higher up on the cliffs.

A storm was about to hit, but he'd have to face it alone.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N This was one the last things I wrote and shared before I took that long break. It's kind of bittersweet, but it's something that I've always liked. It does reference Anna (Sam's sister) from TheNotoriousLIP's "Heat", which LIP decided to take down. I'm going to leave the reference, in case she decides to repost later.

**TIC Extra #8**

**Timeline**: The scene is set during Lost Chapters: Brady. Only tiny spoilers, small enough they barely count.

**Characters**: Jake, Seth, Sam, Emily, Jared, Kim, Brady, Nikki, Quil, Claire, Embry, Callie, Cassie, Paul, Collin, Renesmee

**Rating**: T

**Word Count**: 2839

**Warnings**: Might have some errors, I didn't have time to double proof it. Also there's some BIG paragraphs. :P

* * *

It's one of those rare moments when they can all be together, every single one of them. And like a flickering spark that grows, brightens, evolves to the environment around it, so do they as a people, so do they as a Pack. It's subtle, but like the bending of a flame beneath the fall winds, it's there.

Claire's arms are around Quil's neck, sleeping into his shoulder as he carries her easily in one muscled arm. She's larger than she was last year, but she's still little to him, so little that he doesn't like to put her down. She notices more now, her eyes catching small things that even his doesn't. There's one more burger, Quil, and if she distracts them and he hurries, they can get it before anyone else sees and takes it. They can share, but no pickles on her half. She tries to eat mustard now, even though she still privately makes faces when he gobs the stuff on his food. She's becoming his partner in crime, tells him secrets, runs off to play with the others and spends less time glued to his side. He's no longer Qwil, but she'll always be Claire to him, his little Claire. He lingers before handing her off to Emily and Sam, because he knows these days will go by faster than he's ready for. He feels himself shifting to accommodate her growth, but the thought of something so intrinsically important to his being changing frightens him. Quil always has been good at brave, so he drops a kiss off on her head and passes her into Sam's arms, and makes sure to look at today, look at every day, as one of the good days.

It's been a good day, Sam believes, as he follows Emily into their house, a sleepily yawning Claire in his arms. Emily's made up the room in the back, the one where Anna used to sleep, and it pains him as it always does to see it empty. He lingers in the doorway, allowing himself a moment to remember her, remember his life being so full. The house always feels empty these days, because even while the pressure is off of him, stripped as far off of his shoulders as possible, that release has come with a price. It's rare that the others gather in his front yard, light their fires and laugh the way they are doing now. Sam doesn't know why the party ended up here, unless it's because they are feeling nostalgic. They get like that as a group sometimes, usually when Jake is feeling that way, although Sam doubts the other wolf knows he's projecting it. The leader in Sam considers telling Jake, but he's shifting more into the background now. Sam thinks it's what he needs, what will make life better, so he lays Claire down to dream, tucks her in, is content with keeping just her and Emily safe tonight. Sam looks out the window and sees the bonfire blaze, sees familiar figures spinning around and round, and he smiles to see their joy. Scarred fingers close around his own and he turns that smile Emily's way. The firelight reflects in her eyes, and he holds her gaze. For the first time, he sees only her, and not the combination of her and his failures etched into her skin. She is far more beautiful this way.

Cassie's spinning in circles, close enough to the fire that she'll get burned if she trips. She's not concerned, because Paul's there, and she's learning slowly that he'll watch her fall, no matter how much it frustrates him, but he'll never let her hit the ground, not if he's within reach. His wolf is a quiet certainty in the back of her mind, a wordless presence that has become nearly as close to her heart as her husband is. In essence she's married too people, complements to each other but so far not the same, and that could frighten a different person. But she's never been afraid to love, to open her heart wider and wider, and in her there's more than enough room to fit them both. She dances in front of everyone, but in truth she's dancing for them. She closes her eyes and loses herself in music only she can hear, and she doesn't realize it until much later, when firm strong hands grasp her hips and draw her away. Her eyes open about the time the trees close in around them, and her hands linger on Paul's skin as he presses against hers. He's admitted he wants a child, not yet, but eventually, and as he loves her, she can think of a thousand reasons why they shouldn't. As he loves her, she can think of the best reason why they should. Him. She couldn't imagine a life without him, couldn't imagine denying anyone or anything from knowing him. She laughs and he doesn't know why, but he grins back at her before turning his attention to other things. Cassie's heart spins.

He watches Paul and Cassie sneak away, and from his place at the bonfire, Collin bites down his grin. Paul has a bad habit of projecting when he's distracted, and while he knows Jake and Seth have inadvertently gotten a peak into his bedroom, he doesn't know Collin has received the same. He's admitted it to Cassie once, but she only laughed at him, amused and willing to share her amusement with the world around her. Collin watches Brady wrap his arms around Kim's little sister, and wonders when momma imprint became his best friend. Brady meets his eyes and smirks, and Collin rolls his own. Okay, maybe Brady still wins as best friend, but Collin wishes the other wolf was a little less preoccupied. Collin was up to his eyeballs in a problem a little over his experience level, and if Brady could get his attention off of something besides the moonshine at his hip and Nikki Connweller's breasts, then they could talk it over. Trouble walked on two legs and too often had those legs around his waist, and as his gaze drifted across the fire to where she sat near Jake, Collin's eyes lingered on Callie's hair, her hands, her feet. He was falling for her, and he was worried about that, and there was a time Collin would have told Brady anything and everything about what he was feeling. Maybe Papa was rubbing off on him, or maybe it was a dominance thing, because each time he tried to say something, it was a little harder. The wolf in him wasn't interested in admitting its human's weakness to the others around them. The wolf—Collin closes his eyes and then opens them, finds his Alpha and the she-wolf watching him. He grins cheekily and winks at them both before turning to the bag of marshmallows at his feet. Forget wolves and women…Collin has some s'mores business to attend.

Jake chuckles at the young wolf across the fire, shaking his head. If someone has to dislodge a triple decker s'more from Collin's throat it won't be him. Callie snorts from Jake's left side and the young half vampire on Jake's right starts to explain why a wolf could more easily survive a choking incident. Halfway through her sentence, Renesmee trails off, her voice so sweetly soft falling away. She tilts her head, looks out towards the ocean, her eyes losing focus. Jake puts his arm around her shoulders, knowing it will help her. Jack has taught her many things, but Renesmee has always been far too quick of a study…Jake's seen that look in another's eyes before. The Alpha wonders if he should just ask her what she hears on the wind. Callie presses into his hip, her fingertips lingering on his arm, as if uncertain of her welcome this close to him, the Alpha, and he smiles at her in understanding. The first few months are hard…she hasn't grown used to herself or them quite yet, and her standoffish reactions conflict with her need for proximity. It's easier for him and Seth to get along with her, although he couldn't explain why. She's harsh and she's rough, but she's still his. Jake loves her because she's Pack, and she deserves love as much as any of his wolves do, and he loves her a little extra because she needs him to. Callie helps fill the aching gap where Leah and Samantha used to be, and Jake wraps an arm around Callie's neck. The two that walked away still linger in the back of his heart, hurting, always hurting, and he pulls Callie closer, makes her blush in front of the Pack when he tells them all how proud he is of her. He'll do better with her, Jake promises himself. He'll do better with this one.

Seth watches Callie blush, ignores Jake's grin, and just for the hell of it, he elbows Jared in the ribs. Hard. Jared yelps, and then glowers at him, and Seth can't help but laugh. Seth has been picking on Jared lately, ordering him around, spending days at a time lingering in Jared's easy chair. He flirts with Kim, makes Jared and Brady look inattentive as often as possible, takes her on Kim/Beta bonding days. Jared's accepted it gracefully, but it's clear he's getting annoyed at being outranked. Seth can't help it, though, the house is getting too quiet. His mother…is difficult right now. Wants something from him that he's tried to do, but he's just not strong enough yet, and her disappointment makes him feel weaker still, impotent and powerless. He misses his sister, his sisters, and for someone always surrounded by people, Seth has never been so lonely. He and Jake still aren't on speaking terms beyond Pack business, and he's the Beta. He doesn't drop his problems on the others' laps if he can help it. He can talk to Chancy, a little, when he's not lying to her. He misses her being on the rez, her parts and her connection to the purely human world. Seth runs to Seattle to sneak into her dorm room every weekend, but it's not the same. The gap that Jake feels is a chasm that has torn Seth in half, and he's…struggling. But Jared isn't, Jared's got his own little family, and he keeps them nice and safe and tied into a neat bow. Seth wonders if anyone would notice if he snuck in and became Jared's second Brady. He misses—a hand rests on Seth's shoulder, and he glances up into Emily's eyes. She settles down on the log next to him, and ducks under his arm, wrapping hers around his waist playfully. They used to sit like that before…and out of loyalty to Leah, Seth had stopped…but Leah's loyalty to him wasn't nearly as strong as Seth had always thought it was. And Emily was family, Seth's true family. He elbows Jared one more time just because he can, and decides to start bothering Emily all the time instead.

Jared rubs his ribs and thinks of all the things he would do to Seth if the Beta was still a lowering ranking pup. Since Seth isn't, he splits his attention between Kim and Paul instead. Kim because she's wearing that low cut green sweater he likes so much, the one that makes him want to bury his face in her breasts and motorboat her all day long. Paul because he's having sex with Cassie in the trees only a few yards away, and Jared can't help perk an ear. Whatever Paul's doing, he's doing it well, and Jared smirks, proud of his best friend. Seth is less needy at the moment, Emily has drawn him into a game of thumb war that she's hopelessly determined to win no matter how much she has to cheat, so Jared checks on his pup. From the way Brady's eyes deep in a second neckline, Jared's pretty sure Brady's doing just fine. Nikki's aware of Brady's eyes, and she's torn between looking pleased and pissed, and Jared been THERE before, more than once. So Jared coughs for the kid to get his eyes on her face before she smacks him, and he does so loud enough that Brady and Nikki both turn crimson. Kim is giggling, and Jared smiles at her happiness. The last year was hard, between themselves and with their pup, but it's getting better. They're in a good place right now, have worked hard at their relationship, and it's paying off. They like seeing Brady happy, it's about time the kid was happy, and that carries over more than they had ever realized. Jared's proud of Brady and even though he's worried Brady might imprint, he and Kim have decided that Brady is lingering at a crossroads. One path is dangerous and could end up getting Brady and Nikki emotionally hurt, but the other is so frighteningly dark that they were willing to take the chance, any chance to keep Brady from going down that path. If he goes down that path, not even Jared's sure he can pull his pup back. The kid needs love more than anyone Jared's ever known, and Jared's experienced love that ended in gentler ways. Jared would rather have loved and lost then been lonely his entire life, and he thinks that Nikki is good for the kid. Brady's flushing under Jared's gaze, shifting as if wondering if he's doing something wrong, and Jared smile lingers on his face long after he's returned his attention to his wife and imprint. He whispers in her ear that he's happy. She pulls her attention away from their pup long enough to whisper the same.

Embry stands off to the side and watches Jared whispering to Kim. He leans against his truck with his arms folded across his chest and inhales deeply. The truck still smells faintly of her, even after all these months. She hasn't called him once, and he's still trying to smell her in his truck. Something inside Embry's broken heart resents that, thinks that's bullshit. If it wasn't for the fact that his Alpha wasn't going nuts, he wouldn't even know if she was alive or not. Embry decides that's not okay. He's tired of missing her, of worrying about her, of feeling hurt by her. He loves her, but he's tired, and he's starting to see what the others had seen. He's his father's son, and he's proud, too proud to back down from a fight, but he's trained in the art of avoiding confrontation. He's been on the offense for so long that he's lost track of the enemy, and as he leans against his truck, Embry wonders just who exactly he's fighting so hard. The presence in the back of his mind is not the soft contact some of the others feel. It is loud, and strong, but it is grieving. The wolf has lost its mate, and it mourns her loss. The man…the man is just tired of fighting. For the first time in a long time he pulls himself out of the shadows and walks over to the fire. There was comfort in them once. They were his entire world once, before things got all screwy. He wonders if he's been too far gone to ever come back to his place he held with them before, knows that if this was hundreds of years sooner, they would have driven him away for his loss of self and self-control. Awkwardly he stands at the edge of their circle, wondering what the hell he's supposed to do, or what the hell he's supposed to say. But then Sam claps him on the back as the previous Alpha walks over to Emily and Seth, and Quil hands him a beer. Collin's lured Callie to him with the promise of chocolate and mallow, and Renesmee is asleep in Jake's arms. It's clear from the Alpha's body language that he wants Embry at his side. Paul settles down on Jake's left, his clear gaze giving the younger wolf courage. It's a long three steps, and his feet linger before he moves them, but eventually Embry settles down next to his brother. Jake doesn't say anything as Embry finally rejoins them, but he nods to himself, as if he had known Embry would all along. Embry isn't ready to smile, but he is ready to be here, with them, as one of them again. For the first time in a long time, something finally feels right.

The fire is always brightest at its beginning, blooming with heat and strength, but eventually it smolders into softness. The darkness grows as the heat and light fade, lingering in the center of their circle. They are Pack, and they are together. The cool fall wind brushes their faces, and in her sleep, Renesmee smiles. The cycle starts over again.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N This one has a violence rating on it, and is kind of rough. If it helps, I tried to go full out and write the torture, and I got too squeamish.

**TIC Extra #9**

**Timeline**: The scene is set during B2, when Sims and Brady have been captured by Calgary.

**Characters**: Brady, Sims

**Rating**: M

**Word Count**: 964

**Warnings**: Torture, strong language

* * *

Samantha came awake to something wet across her shoulder. At first she thought it was blood, there had been a lot of that, but it wasn't. There were strong arms wrapped weakly around her torso, and a heavy body on top of her own, curled like a child around a stuffed animal. Brady was human, a bad sign. She had been sure that they had killed him this time, had screamed it at them as they kept beating and beating him, but Samantha had to give credit to the Calgary Alpha.

He knew exactly how much punishment a wolf body could take.

She had still been screaming for him when they had sliced the vampire fang into her skin, with those trace amount of venom that made her body start to seize and twist and cramp down upon itself. Maybe that was why Brady was crying, because she had started screaming for herself at that point. And somewhere between Brady being beaten again and the venom beginning to eat its way through her skin like acid, Samantha had lost consciousness.

Maybe he had thought she was dead too.

She didn't know how long they had been here…with what they had been subjected to, she couldn't judge time at all. The cave was always partially dark, and except for the times they poured water on her face, each time convincing her that _this_ time they _weren't_ going to stop, she hadn't had anything to eat or drink.

Samantha could feel Jake now, his presence in her stomach like a burning hot coal, but she couldn't focus enough to try and reach him. It was nearly impossible to get past the poison that moved through her own body, diluted enough to not change her, but strong enough to make her wish for death. Even as she lay beneath the weight of her protector, her body was still being racked in tremors that she couldn't control. Somewhere something inside her was crawling, crawling past the venom, crawling past the fear, crawling past the bond and leaving her so fucking _angry_.

She was supposed to die at Embry's side after a lifetime of memories. Six months was just not enough, and that pissed her the hell off. Too bad all she could do was huddle in a ball and try to hang on. Jake was coming, and if they could just hang on...

There was something wet across her shoulder, but it wasn't blood. It was tears. The young wolf was crying, albeit silently, and his nose was buried against her neck, as if seeking comfort even as he tried to block the world from her with his broken body. They had released him awhile ago from the chains that had restrained him, finding it funny in watching him struggle to stay between them and her. Brady didn't have much left but he was still trying to protect her. Samantha wondered if this was her story, dying because she wouldn't abandon Brady to the Calgary wolves alone, and him dying while still trying to do what he'd been ordered. She was the Alpha's imprint, and she had tried to order him to leave her and try his best to get away. But just like her, Brady had stayed.

Honestly, at this point Chitakido wouldn't let either of them go anyways.

Something crawled again, something that should never have moved, slipping beneath her muscles and her skin as she tried to turn in Brady's arms and wrap him up in hers. It didn't work, her left arm was broken and something was wrong with her right, but she was still able to press her nose to the base of his neck and rub lightly, something that Embry had always loved. It made Brady cry even harder.

"M'sorry," he whispered to her, his words slow and broken around his damaged throat. "I…supposed to…protect…"

"It's not your fault," she promised him, trying to get closer even if it hurt, hurt so bad. "It's okay, Brady, we'll be okay."

Her head fit in the crook of his neck, slimmer than Embry's shoulder, fuck he was just a kid. They were both just _kids_. He was giving up hope, she could see it in the dead of his eyes, so Samantha offered him her throat. No one had ever done that to Brady before, not that knew what it meant, and he had never been more dominant than anyone or anything, with the exception of Jack. So he snuffled again before touching his teeth so very lightly to her throat. This time he was the one that whispered that it would be okay. They would be okay, they just had to hold on.

She was tempted to ask him to make this end for her, she was in so much pain, but then he would be here all alone, and that thought made her so damn angry that she actually snarled wordlessly.

They would be okay. They would be okay. They would…

They wouldn't because Brady let out a low moan, dropping his face back to her throat. "_Please_," he choked out, using the last of his strength to ball up around her again because he could hear what she couldn't. "Please don't…please don't hurt her anymore."

But she _could_ hear. They were coming back, and Chitakido had just ordered the Beta to…to…and those slender pieces of metal in his hand were for…

Oh _god_. This time the fear was too much, and she screamed in her head, in her heart for Embry, for Jake, for Brady or Paul or _anyone_. And maybe she was screaming out loud too, because she could barely hear Brady begging them to please don't…please _don't_.

_Please, just fucking __**don't**_.

The Beta smiled and picked up her hand.


	10. Chapter 10

**TIC Extra #10**

**Timeline**: This is a scene from B3, after Sims phases and Seth starts healing from Neel's attack. I left it out for several reasons, one of which that I wasn't sure at the time where I stood on the whole "would a child imprint be able to feel an adult wolf having sex with someone else through the bond?" concept. I also didn't post it because I thought it would cause more imprinting arguments than I wanted to deal with at the time. In hindsight I think maybe I should have left it in, because I do believe that one of the few things Jack was doing well in B3 was protecting Renesmee from his own emotions.

**Characters**: Jack, Leah

**Rating**: M

**Words**: 1630

**Warnings**: Sexual content, mentions to child imprint subject matter

* * *

Jack had fallen asleep with the Alpha once again keeping guard over him, as Jake had done every night since Collin had attacked him. When Jack awoke, a far prettier wolf had taken Jake's place.

Leah was restless, edgy, unhappy. Jack could see it in her eyes, in the tightness of her jaw, in the stiffness of her shoulders. She had a lot to be unhappy about but she wasn't willing to talk about any of that right then. Her eyes kept drifting to the south and then back down to the ground, where a clump of muddy earth poked through the blanket of snow. Leah should have been sleeping, Jack was pretty sure that she hadn't done so since the Cold One's attack on her blood brother, but as tense as she seemed, Jack doubted that there was any way Leah was going to be asleep anytime soon.

If he had been more dominant, less the wolf that he was now, maybe she would have goaded him into a fight. The females had a tendency to pick fights when they were upset, but Leah and Jack had never been that way. She would chew on him, pounce on him, lean on him, and a hundred other things, but Leah wouldn't fight him.

That was good. Jack preferred it that way.

Still, Leah was unhappy and Jack didn't like that. They could run, that might help, but the Alpha was keeping everyone out of the Packmind until their newest she-wolf became more stable. More than two in the Packmind made Sims become overly confused and disoriented, a state that she was only starting to come out of with their Alpha's patient help. Leah had spent the last day doing the same, but Jack didn't need to ask why Leah had come here instead of staying on her own turf, looking like she was about to drop from exhaustion. He was sure she had her reasons, and if she wanted him to know, Leah would tell him.

The bark of the apple tree was digging uncomfortably into his damaged back, so Jack shifted away, his body protesting the movement of muscled held still for hours. As he stood up, Jack could feel Leah's eyes digging into his shoulders even deeper than the bark had done. He could smell her spiking anger and Jack softened his posture, slumping slightly to remind her that he wasn't any kind of a threat to her. When he went so far as to tilt his head sideways to appease her, the she-wolf snorted and turned away.

Shrugging, Jack stretched, wincing as it pulled torn muscles tighter across bone, and he could feel her watching him again. Confused, the ancient wolf turned and looked at her quizzically. Leah was staring at him, so many jumbled emotions on her face that even one such as he couldn't read them all. Jack stood there beneath her regard, and then finally he understood one of the flitting expressions on her face. Making a soft soothing noise in his throat, Jack immediately sank down to his heels. The she-wolf leaning against the tree glared at him, obviously angry that he had picked up on it.

There was nothing to be angry about. As far as Jack was concerned there was no anger between them, and there never had been.

"I'm not unwilling," Jack finally said, his words breaking the quiet of the world around them. Leah's eyes snapped to his face, and they narrowed.

"You're imprinted," Leah replied curtly, and Jack tipped his head to the side consideringly. That was true, he was imprinted, but his imprint was a child. Even with accelerated growth, she would still be a child for several more passings of the seasons. Smiling slightly, Jack met Leah's gaze with one of his own.

"Yes, Packmate," Jack said gently. "However I am still myself, and my imprint will be a child for a long time, if not as long as most. The gift that is imprinting was never meant to take one's own will away, and as I said, I am not unwilling."

Silently Leah held his gaze long enough that Jack knew that he would need to drop his eyes soon. Then her eyes flicked sideways, not an admittance of submission, but not a refusal of such. Understanding, possibly more than she did herself, Jack nodded and rose to his feet. The she-wolf took his proffered hand, and when he helped her to her feet, she exhaled heavily and leaned against his chest. Her breath was warm against his skin, but she was cooler than normal, a sign that her exhaustion was beginning to take its toll.

Raising a hand to her hair, Jack let her lean against him. Leah was strong, and Jack had a feeling that in her lifetime that there were very few people that Leah had let be strong for her. One of them had been the Beta, who now was weakened and needed protecting himself. One more was the Alpha, but the she-wolves were drawn almost irrevocably to the most dominant wolves, and for her own reasons Leah was fighting to keep a distance between herself and Jake. It would help her to have another female, although there was always the possibility that Leah had spent too long alone for the natural camaraderie of the she-wolves to take place. Either way, in this moment there were few that she trusted enough to let her guard down around.

A deep shudder slid through the wolf as he felt another strand between himself and his Pack tie itself into place.

Leah must have misinterpreted his reaction because a look of hurt crossed her face, as if she thought he was rejecting her. It couldn't have been further from the truth because in all honesty, Jack was equally exhausted. The thought of letting himself relax even deeper into the bonds between Pack sounded better than anything else he could imagine right now, so Jack caught Leah's hand before she could pull away.

There was the barn or the travel trailer, and while one smelled unpleasantly of Cold One, the thought of scratchy bits of hay working their way into deep wounds could make even a wolf grimace. So Jack led Leah to the home that he shared with his friend, smiling a little when she wrinkled her nose.

"You sure know how to wine and dine a girl in style, Jack," Leah teased as Jack stripped the sheets off of the small bed in the back, and he chuckled, spreading a heavy blanket down on the mattress instead.

"I'll make up for it," he promised her with the slightest of smiles, and then he turned and pulled her into his arms. The she-wolf paused only for a moment, but then she came willingly. The last time had been aggressive, nearly violent with the needs that being in heat had caused her, but unless she wanted that, Jack had no intentions of bedding her the same way. This time they both exhaled at the comfort of contact, of her body against his, and as her arms wrapped around his neck tiredly, Jack hoisted her up into his own.

Leah's legs felt good wrapped around his waist, her skin felt better beneath his own, and she gave him a look of surprise when he very carefully laid her down on the bed. It was a far cry from holding her down on earth and stone, taking her until she cried out his name, but Jack simply kissed her, helped her draw her clothes off, and then he settled down into the task of making her forget.

Sometimes it was nice to forget, if just for a while. Sometimes it was better that way.

The voices in his head were restless, angry, but they melted against her slowly warming body, and when he rolled her over onto her stomach, the movement of her form beneath his and her noises of pleasure drowned out his demons, forced them away. Long and lean and arching deliciously into him, Jack decided that of all his lovers he had taken, only one had been more beautiful to him than her. But that was a long time ago, and the forgetting was for them both right now. Slow and steady but gradually asking her for more, ignoring her demands for the same. Slow and steady, because it was driving her crazy, and it felt so damn good to have his name spoken that way. Slow and steady, but harder because they both wanted it, both needed it. Slow and steady but relentless until she bit her teeth into the forearm that held her in place, crying out his name.

His back was on fire, but there was a hotter, better fire beneath him, and Jack ignored the first for as long as he could. But then she was twisting beneath him, those long legs once more tightening about his waist, breath sweet as it mingled with his. He could smell his own blood on his back, but then it didn't matter. She was Pack, and at this moment she was his, and she felt so good…Closing his eyes, Jack allowed himself to forget, and in forgetting, for a moment he knew peace.

Then horrified, because unlike Leah, Jack had whispered the wrong name, a dead woman's name.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, devastated because if this hurt her, if _he_ hurt her, one of his most cherished Packmates, Jack would never forgive himself. "Leah, I'm so sorry."

But then she was pulling him down into her, whispering that it was okay, that she understood better than he knew. "Tell me," Leah whispered, "Tell me what happened to you."

And as he pressed his face to her breast, Jack once again closed his eyes and he remembered...


	11. Chapter 11

A/N I meant to get this up earlier today, but I ended up messing with it for the better part of way too long. :P

**TIC Extra #11**

**Timeline**: The scene is set during the end of B3, towards the end of the school year and just before Paul and Cassie's wedding.

**Characters**: Brady, Sims (minor Jake, Chancy, Collin, Nikki)

**Rating**: T

**Word Count**: 2435

**Warnings**: Boobs. Some language, Mel's stereotypical TIC rambling, some Embry bashing. And…boobs.

* * *

Brady Jennings liked to consider himself a cool customer with the ladies. What he was really good at was sitting back and playing it low key, watching the hottest chicks out of the corner of his eye, and waiting for them come to him. Definitely a cool customer.

That's what he considered himself, anyway, but Brady had the feeling that his best friend disagreed with this theory. Collin kept telling Brady he'd be a lot _cooler_ customer if one of these days the ladies actually did come to him. Until then Collin was pretty sure that Brady was just the grumpy, scary guy that made the hottest chicks nervous when he stared, making them scoot on down the line to where Collin was waiting to gather them all up and stick them in his back pocket. Or side pocket. Or straight down the front of his pants if the ladies in question were willing.

Of course Collin appreciated it, but if Brady ever wanted to _catch_ a girl instead of just herding them together for Collin, maybe he should stop sitting back and staring and actually _talk_ to one of them. And since Brady spent the most time staring at Nikki Connweller—a girl less frightened of him than most—then maybe Brady should probably start with talking to her.

Easier said than done.

Brady had tried, he really had. He'd grunted at Nikki when passing her in the halls. He'd told her he liked the Spongebob Squarepants patch she'd sewn onto her ratty old book bag she always carried. And every morning he hesitated by Nikki's locker, where she always stood with her two best friends, and he'd say her name. Yep. That's how far he had gotten. He was now saying her name. As he sat munching on his lunch at a picnic table with two girls that he couldn't and wouldn't stare at, Brady was forced to admit that maybe he wasn't as cool as he thought he was.

This entire school year, Brady had eaten his lunch outside, rain or shine, because that's what Sims did. She had her table, and she would lounge on top of her table, and she would talk to her friend Chancy on her table, the redhead that always smelled like candy and sex and Seth Clearwater. Sims had used to smell like candy and sex and Embry Call. Now she smelled like candy and she-wolf and Packmate, and only of Embry when the dickmunch forgot that he was still punishing her for being braver and better than Embry fucking Call had ever deserved.

Not that Brady was allowed an opinion or anything…But let's just say that Brady was allowed an opinion, and if he was, he might be inclined to mention that he was sick and tired of their newest she-wolf still having to clean up after Embry Call's fuckups. Frankly it pissed him the fuck off.

If Embry had been able to keep his shit together enough to take care of his own business, maybe she wouldn't have needed to fight so hard to protect him. If Embry had been able to keep his shit together enough to put his dick in a wrapper, maybe she wouldn't have been so hopped up on estrogen from the morning after pill, and she wouldn't have gone bat shit crazy and hurt herself when fighting to protect him from them. If Embry had been able to keep his shit together enough, maybe Sims wouldn't have had to be shipped out of the rez and into Calgary's jaws. If Embry had been able to keep his shit together enough, maybe Embry wouldn't have forgotten to switch the patrol routes the day Neel nearly killed Seth, and she wouldn't have had to phase to save their Beta in the first place.

The way Brady saw it, Emb could throw as many temper tantrums and pity parties as he wanted to about the whole thing, but no, Sims hadn't asked his opinion before phasing because she wasn't Embry's imprint, she was _Jake's_. That decision had been between _them_.

But Brady was on the bottom rung of the Pack ladder, and he didn't get to have an opinion. So he kept his mouth shut and he stuck close to her side, watching her back because that's what they did for each other now. And Brady hadn't exactly called dibs, but he was going to be the first one to put a fist in Emb's mouth when the asshole dumped her, because it was coming. She was the only one who _didn't_ know it was coming, and it was going to blindside her no matter how many hints the older wolf kept throwing in her face.

Hell, maybe Brady was wrong. What did he know about any of that relationship crap? Brady had never even had a real girlfriend, so he wasn't going to say anything and make more trouble for either of them. Not for her, because she mattered, and not for Embry because Brady had spoken up once, and Emb had lost his fucking mind afterwards. So instead Brady would listen to Sims and Chancy talk about boring girl shit and he'd eat his lunch and keep his mouth shut. Maybe steal some lollipops from both girls' book bags, and he would use his strategic positioning from slightly behind his Alpha's imprint to crane his head slightly and stare at Nikki Connweller.

"You're not very subtle, you know."

Mid head crane, Brady glanced at Sims, where she lay flopped out on the top of the table in front of him. His lunch tray was wedged against her hip, because Chancy was on her belly on Sims' other side, the red head yawning tiredly as she much more openly stared at Jake and Collin playing basketball.

Chancy was tired all the time these days, and the Pack knew the reason why. Seth had started sneaking through Chancy's window almost every night, and no one was buying her comments about being so exhausted because of studying for finals. It had been a long time since Seth had been regularly getting any, and despite how slowly he was recovering from Neel's attack, their Beta had been in a fabulous mood because of the redhead. Brady personally thought the girl was kind of weird, but Seth was a little weird too, and if she made his Beta happy, then Brady was cool with her. Plus Chancy might have been sleeping with Seth, but the pair were enjoying a "best friends with benefits" status, meaning that Chancy could ogle anyone she wanted and Seth wasn't going to get pissed about it.

Of course, that didn't mean that Seth and the rest of them wouldn't scare the hell out of any little shit that thought he could move in on Seth's territory, but Chancy didn't know that.

Speaking of territory, Brady didn't know the name of that asshole that had just sat down next to Nikki's more annoying friend, but Brady didn't like the way he was staring at Kim's sister. Brady's eyes narrowed as he chewed on his food.

"Brady. Earth to Braaaaaaady. Come in, Brady. Come in—oh. I get it. Wow, he's really moving in on your woman, isn't he? How about this: I'll phase and hamstring him, and you can go for his jugular." Brady's head snapped around at that, startled. Sims winked at him from around her lollipop as Jake failed to make his layup, distracted by his imprint outing them in front of a human. "Just kidding."

"Whaddya mean by phase?" Chancy asked absently, still watching the guys and not really paying attention.

"NAMTO," Sims and Brady replied simultaneously, causing the redhead to flip them off with a backwards flopping hand. Brady and the she-wolf shared a snicker, and across the basketball court, Jake smiled without meaning to, something he sometimes did when his imprint was amused and he was this close to her. Brady always knew when it happened, because the Alpha would blink and then shake his head, as if trying to refocus himself.

In the time that all went down, Collin tried and failed to make two baskets and scratched his ass when he thought no one was looking. Brady had different asses to stare at, so he returned his glower to the asshole leaning in towards Nikki again, and this time pretty eyes caught him watching.

Brady quickly jerked his own eyes away, back towards his Packmate.

"You like her, don't you?" Sims asked him, propping herself up on her elbows, the white paper end of her sucker sticking out of the side of her mouth. "Nikki. You really like her."

Brady flushed, grunting something unintelligible, and Sims chuckled. "What do you care?" the male wolf grumped, the red stain deepening on his cheeks when he saw a smirk begin to curl Sims' lips, the she-wolf's white teeth flashing.

"You liiike her," Sims teased around her lollipop, waiting until Brady took a large bite of his sandwich. "It's the boobs, isn't it?"

Mid-swallow, Brady began choking. "What the _hell_, Samantha?" he gasped, spraying bits of bread and mustard on the table. Sims' face scrunched up and she flicked a piece of partially chewed food off of her knee and back at him.

"I'm just saying, she's got some nice boobs," the she-wolf decided, nodding sagely. "If I was a guy, and I was trying to decide which girls to hook up with, I would definitely pick a girl with a big rack. Not too big, not creepy floppy big, but something with some good squish to it."

To emphasize her point, Sims glanced around and in failing to find an adequate study, she grabbed the front of her shirt with both hands and tugged it out. "About there, I think. Maybe a little bigger, I'm not really sure. Guys have bigger hands, so the hand to boob squishing ratio would be different…"

Brady quit trying to chew at this point and instead simply stared, mouth wedged full of bread and meat and eyes wide as she suddenly reached over and grabbed his wrist. Brady instinctively cringed, as if afraid his hand was about to go somewhere that it shouldn't in the name of speculation, and instead he found himself palm to palm with her own, much smaller hand.

"What the hell are you doing?" Brady demanded, and she smiled at him from around her lolly, unaware that her lips were turning a bright shade of blue. It was a smile that he hadn't seen in a while, one devoid of that harsh bitterness that made him feel like he was looking in a mirror.

A smaller, prettier mirror, but a mirror nonetheless.

"Brady to Samantha conversion factors," Sims told him, her eyes sparkling. She tapped the ends of her fingers against the palm sides of his knuckles. "There's two of you for every one of me, so whatever boob size I'd enjoy grabbing, I have to double it to become Brady-friendly."

And the young wolf realized that he was smiling too, even though it was ridiculous. "You idiot," he smirked. "Any sized rack is Brady-friendly. Do you know how long it's been—"

"Eww! Too much information, Brady!" Sims declared, falling back on the picnic table and snickering. She pulled her sunglasses off the top of her head and back over her eyes. "But I approve, not that it matters necessarily. She's hot, and she's nice and she's obviously likes you back. Every time you stop staring at her, she starts staring at you."

Brady grunted, but couldn't help feel pleased at her words. From across the basketball court, he saw Nikki scoot a little further away from the guy that had sat down, looking somewhat frustrated. Brady caught her eye, and when she didn't look away, he risked giving her a wink. It worked for Collin all of the time, and for once, it worked for him too. This time it was someone else who was blushing, and this time it was the other side of the mirror who was grinning like he used to.

He really should go over there to talk to her. He could say…he'd say…what the fuck was he supposed to say? My name's Brady, I live with Kim and Jared. Will you let me motorboat you?

Brady contemplated if that would work as he finished his lunch. Chancy had fallen asleep. Sims was still talking, and still groping herself in the name of self-discovery. It had been a really good sandwich.

"D's. I like D's, Brady, and your girl's packing doubles. So that means you choose wisely, and you should ask her out. She'll say yes," the she-wolf promised him, flicking him in the forehead as she did. "You're a wolf. Go. Do something impressive."

The Alpha's eye twitched and he missed another layup, so Brady made sure to flick her in the temple twice as he rose to his feet and smirked. "Jake's gonna get an ulcer if you don't stop saying stuff like that."

"He likes the attention," the she-wolf said, and when Jake gave her a pained look, she playfully snapped her teeth at him. Then she turned her attention back to Brady. "Okay, I'm going to tell you a secret. It worked for Embry, it worked for Seth, and it's going to work for you."

Yes. Yes. This was what he needed. This was why he had dragged her out of those fucking caves, so Sims could tell him—

"Take your shirt off, and clench your ass cheeks. Trust me, it'll do shit to your abs like you wouldn't believe—hey! What was that for? That's my candy!"

Now it was _his_ candy, because Brady deserved it for almost taking her shitty advice. But he did lose the shirt, and dumped it on her face, because it would make the she-wolf a good pillow. Plus, there were other ways than talking to impress a girl, and Collin never had been able to go one on one with the Alpha in basketball without looking like a dumbass.

It was rare for Brady to feel this confident, but his best friend was giving him a look of desperate appeal, a good looking girl with a nice chest was staring at his stomach, and having Jake around made life better any day. Brady left her on her table with a now snoring redhead, mumbling beneath his shirt as Sims gave herself one more good pat just for science's sake, then started groping lower.

Maybe she was actually an ass girl instead.


	12. Chapter 12

A/N I'm posting this and the previous extra together, because comparing and contrasting the before and the after is always fun.

**TIC Extra #12: One Sip**

**Timeline**: The scene is set after B3, before Lost Chapters: Brady.

**Characters**: Brady

**Rating**: T

**Word Count**: 1160

**Warnings**: Underage drinking, language

* * *

Brady wasn't sure how much he had drank this time, but he was pretty sure that this time he had drank too much.

It was pathetic really, that after all that had happened to him, that Brady could be scared of alcohol poisoning, but the part of his mind that was still slightly coherent realized that he was in trouble. He had done the slugging moonshine thing, drinking himself to the point that even a wolf like him couldn't process the amount of alcohol out of his system fast enough, leaving him laughing and grinning and numb. He had done the still drinking thing, where his laughing turned to bitterness and anger, his head lighter and his heart rawer, and his face and fingertips numb. He had done the staggered walking around the shack thing, he had done the raging at the sky thing, he had done the stumbling to the ground thing and having a hell of a time getting back to the next bottle he had waiting thing.

But this time? This time Brady was pretty sure that he had drank too much.

She had left him, you see, and Brady wasn't supposed to talk about it. After all, she had left two people far more important than Brady was, and while Embry was hurting and Jake was whatever Jake was, Brady wasn't supposed to care. At least, Brady wasn't supposed to care any more than the rest of them, and the rest of them were hurt and angry. But Brady? Brady had been abandoned. She was the only fucking one who understood what had happened, the only fucking one who he could look at and know, just _know_, that she understood that it had fucked them both up more than they let anyone see. She was the one that helped him know that as bad as he got, as dark as his thoughts would go, that she had gone those dark places too.

They had never talked about it, but it had always been there, an understanding, a camaraderie…but she was gone now, and Brady had been left standing alone. Again. Only in standing he was on his knees and he was retching. He couldn't stop retching, and the world wouldn't stop spinning.

Dammit. Too much.

There was a part of Brady that didn't care. There was a part of him that thought that puking his guts out until there was nothing left, alone out here in the middle of nowhere, was better than waking up in the middle of the night screaming, scaring the hell out of Jared every time and bringing Kim to tears. Brady had people that cared about him now, but there was only so much that those people could do when so much of Brady had been broken, and it was up to Brady to find a way to put himself back together again. And he had been trying, he really had. Seeing her function, seeing her smile and laugh and give them hell, it had made him better, made him think that if she could be better, he could be better, that he could leave hell behind and start living normally again.

But she had left, run away, abandoned them all. She wasn't better. If she had been she wouldn't have left them, right? So she was out there all fucked up on her own, and he was in here all fucked up on his own, and Brady had thought that he would be less scared for both of them if he was drunk. Drunk made it easier, until it made it worse, and right now he was pretty fucking worse.

The world wasn't just spinning, it was blurring until he couldn't see straight, and there was nothing more for Brady to throw up, but he couldn't stop the involuntary retching. It was a humiliation to know that they would find him like this, a pathetic drunken asshole, covered in his own vomit and curled up between too many empty jugs. He had drank jugs this time, not bottles. It had seemed like a good idea at the time. Now, Brady was so sick that he regretted it.

He regretted it because he was still retching, and it hurt his throat and his chest and his stomach. He shouldn't be scared. His best friend in the world had taken on the worst vampire they had ever faced, and Collin hadn't been scared. Collin had been brave, Collin had been fearless, Collin had been tough. And in the end, Collin had won. Brady always lost, but Collin always won. Wolves like Collin were able to survive just about anything, wolves like Collin didn't drinking themselves to fucking uselessness just because someone else's girl went somewhere else.

Wolves like Collin—

"Brady? Shit man, what the fuck did you do?"

What did Brady do? Brady did nothing. Brady stopped nothing. Brady helped nothing and he was nothing—

"Oh, hell, Brady. Why the hell do you do this shit to yourself? Come on man, try to stand up. I've got to get you home, okay? I've got to get some water in you, buddy. On three, one, two, three…oomph. Damn, Brade..."

Spinning, spinning, everything was spinning. He was a drunk. He was a mess. "I think I drank too much."

Silence, and then a soft sigh. "Yeah, man, you always do. You always drink too much…do you want to talk about it?"

Talk about that she left him?

"She left us all, Brady."

He was reading his fucking thoughts now.

"Man, you really are fucked up. Shit. Shit…Jared? I need some help over here. Get me some water and a fucking stomach pump if you have it."

Someone's shoelaces, someone else's arms, a bathtub…

"Kid, why do you keep doing this?"

Water, a toilet, retching…

"Jared, I think I drank too much. I think I…

I think I drank…

I think I drank too…

Brady wasn't sure how much he had drank this time, but as he woke up on the couch in Jared's living room, he was pretty sure it had been too much. It was pathetic really, Brady decided as he stuck his head between his legs, hoping that the nausea would pass. How many times had he watched this shit with his own father? How many times had he swore that he would be better, better than his family, better than himself?

Jared would be making breakfast in the kitchen and he would give him a cup of coffee. Kim would wait for him to talk about it, but Brady would only whisper it wouldn't happen again. And he would try, he really would, at least until later that night. Bottle in hand, and heart full of darkness, Brady would close his eyes and take just one more sip. He'd stop this time, Brady knew, after the alcohol started to numb it all away.

Just one more sip and he'd be done…


	13. Chapter 13

A/N This one is little, just a drabble.

**TIC Extra #13**

**Timeline**: This is set during the Old Pack days, the italicized scenes from TIC: B3.

**Characters**: Qa'al (minor T'sikáti)

**Rating**: K+

**Word Count**: 557

**Warnings**: None

* * *

_ Qa'al sat quietly beneath the stars, his head bowed. _

_ His face was blackened and whitened with the colors of the Tlokwali, his eyes staring into the fire as the people danced their dances to the beating of drums. They swayed to the deep resounding sounds, building slowly in tempo, moving around the fire, moving around himself. The breeze lightly brushing his brow, the cool earth beneath his fingertips, the flickering of the flames playing in the moonlight, reaching for the night sky like a hungry lover._

_ They who were Tlokwali moved about him on human feet and heavy paws. Waiting, watching, all for him. Depending on him. Only him._

_ Their Third inhaled then exhaled deeply, the smoke from the fire mixing with the herbs that still burned his nostrils. Long lean brown bodies rolling around him, bare heels stomping out the heavy pattern of the drumbeats. Qa'al rocked back and forth to the tempo, his heart was burning, his body was burning, his limbs began to tremble. The flames grew, taller and taller, and where the people once danced, now shadows undulated in their places. The spirits of the animals, browns and red, blacks and whites, blended with the murmurs of the ancestors, rising louder and louder in his head, asking for him to move deeper in their world, to hear what they had to say, to know what the Quileute people had always known, and now knew, and would always know. Pulling at him, shadows dancing, brushing his shoulders, his lips, his thighs, faster and faster, he was one with them and their world, he was living but he flirted with the dead, and the dead expected more of him with every step._

_ Deeper and deeper, he was theirs. The ocean rose and crashed into the shore, and he was lost in the in between, breathing and drowning, standing and swimming, theirs and no longer his own. The salmon would come early this year, and the elk late, and the late summer sun would bake the earth, but he would never be able to tell his people because he was gone…so far gone...so far that he could never return…_

_ A painful wrenching, a more painful gripping of fingers into his skin, holding him back. He could not go yet. The Alpha would not allow it. The fish would not let his fishhook go into their madness yet._

_ Qa'al shivered, T'sikáti's fist against his neck, breathing the short painful gasps of the living. Drums silenced as they held their own breaths, waiting for him, waiting for their fate. As it always was, the fear took hold more deeply than the last time. And as it always was, Qa'al eventually forced that fear away, so he could face more pressing emotions. The hunger and desperation of so many others, so many beloved faces of his tribe. Their fear would always be more important than his own. _

_"The…the fish will come…we will no longer hunger…" Qa'al finally whispered over his spirit torn throat. "They will come." _

_ And so the people danced in thanks to the ancestors, and the spirits, their hungry eyes drinking in each other long into the night. Beneath his Alpha's protective gaze, Qa'al sat quietly beneath the stars, head bowed, trembling as he remembered the words of those beyond this world. _

_ They would have him yet. _


	14. Chapter 14

A/N In case anyone's interested, Ba'iyas is one of the two wolves that remained in La Push with T'sikáti after T'sikáti cast out the rest of the Pack. That means he's a certain someone's ancestor. I'll let you all guess whose. ;)

**TIC Extra #14**

**Timeline**: This is set during the Old Pack days, the italicized scenes from TIC: B3.

**Characters**: Ba'iyas, T'sikáti

**Rating**: K+

**Word Count**: 614

**Warnings**: None

* * *

_His name had been Ba'iyas. He wasn't sure what it would be henceforth._

_ When it had happened, when their beloved Qa'al had done...done the __**unthinkable**__, it had been Ba'iyas who had recovered first. Recovered might have been an exaggeration, Ba'iyas had merely been the first one to force his heart back in his chest and his knees into working. He had been the first one to leave his dead brother and his dead sister where they lay cradled in the arms of the living, the first one to return to his Alpha's side._

_ There was mud on his face and his hands and his belly. Even when the great T'sikáti has been brought to his knees, their place was still below him. He might have been a large man, but Ba'iyas was not ashamed to crawl on the ground. _

_ He found T'sikáti kneeling by the shoreline, as still as the mighty redwoods, looking out at the ocean waves. The Alpha's face was a harsh, unreadable mask, and for the first time he could remember, Ba'iyas shook as he scooted forward on his belly, afraid of his Alpha. He had lived a long life knowing that certain things had always been so, would always be so, and that those who were Tlokwali would never change. As if a blanket had been ripped from his eyes, Ba'iyas now knew that just because a thing had always been, didn't mean that it was __**guaranteed**__. _

_ His faith was shaken, his heart was broken. He trembled in the mud at T'sikáti's feet. _

_ "Get up, Ba'iyas," T'sikáti whispered, and the wolf raised his eyes to his leader. Like a stone, unmoving. Like a stone, but with half of T'sikáti shorn away. The unbreakable had been broken. Ba'iyas was afraid._

_ "Get up before they see you, brother." There was no Alpha in his voice, but Ba'iyas could hear the almost desperate need in T'sikáti's words, could feel his brothers and sisters following his path towards the ocean. Tears in the Alpha's eyes, and for the first time, T'sikáti's own fear. "Ba'iyas, get up. I can't do this alone…he's so broken…and they…their need…I can't…"_

_ A hand on his shoulder, fingers digging into his flesh, a mask falling away. Just for an instant an Alpha became a man, and a man staggered beneath a terrible weight. With a clarity Ba'iyas had never know before, the wolf realized that what he had lost, what they all had lost, was nothing compared to what their Alpha had lost. And because he loved greater than he feared, Ba'iyas staggered to his feet. _

_ It was the first time he had allowed himself a position higher than his Alpha, and it was wrong. That wrongness rested between them, and then T'sikáti seemed to shake himself. It was an old man that rose from the sand, an old man that gripped the hand that helped him up. For a moment it was on Ba'iyas's shoulder that the great Alpha leaned. Just for a moment, but it was a moment that Ba'iyas would always remember. A moment when he knew just who, and what he was needed to be._

_ "Thank you, brother," T'sikáti whispered, and then, because Ba'iyas was not Qa'al, T'sikáti pulled away. _

_ As the Tlokwali stumbled to their Alpha, it was T'sikáti whose soft words of reassurance gave them comfort, his strength that would help them recover and once again feel safe. As he stood at T'sikáti's side, the new Beta steadied himself, wondering if he could ever hope to replace that which was had always seemed irreplaceable. Two sets of footsteps were two sets too many for even Ba'iyas to fill. _

_ He'd have to do it anyways._


	15. Chapter 15

A/N I'm running a low on non-spoiler extra scenes, so the next few posts will be some prompt responses I combined. This one is Collin centric, with a decent amount of Brady thrown in.

**TIC Extra #15**

**Timeline**: Varying

**Characters**: Collin, Brady (minor Cassie, Paul)

**Rating**: M

**Word Count**: 1955

**Warnings**: Rated for language and sexual references…to multiple moms.

* * *

**Nutcrackers (Pre-TIC)**

"Dude this is stupid." Brady looked over at Collin, rolling his eyes. "On the list of all of the things that you've dragged me to, this is by far the stupidest."

Collin sighed and settled deeper into his chair. "Oh come on, Brady, it's not that bad. Mom's made us go to worse."

Brady groaned and let his head flop back on the back of his chair, staring at the ceiling. "Dude, the guys are all in spandex, leaping around. How in the hell is that not stupid?"

"They're dancers, they're supposed to wear that kind of stuff," Collin muttered back. "The chick down there is pretty hot."

"She has no chest at all," Brady said dismissively. "Plus I don't like blondes."

"Says the guy that lives in a place surrounded by brunettes," Collin grunted. "Don't you ever like a little variety? Something new?"

"Something new was agreeing to come watch the ballet with you, Collin," Brady sighed. "Obviously something new doesn't work for me."

Collin chuckled, and then blinked. "Woah. Did you just see…?"

"A shitload of dudes in tights just do the splits midair simultaneously? I'm trying to forget it."

Mrs. Littlesea leaned around her son and shushed them both, looking equally embarrassed and annoyed. Brady obediently ducked his head and slid down in his seat, although Collin grinned at her. "Sorry ma," he whispered back, just a touch too loudly, earning another look.

Brady and Collin shared a smirk and went back to watching. For about two minutes.

"This is _stupid_."

"Brady, try to be a little cultured, will you?"

"She's dancing with a giant stuffed nutcracker, Collin."

"Yeah, but she's hot, so she's allowed."

"Dude, she's not hot—and there go the leaping fucktards again," Brady sighed. "Thank god that shit doesn't happen in real life. A dude is walking down the street and a whole bunch of other dudes go leaping after him."

"That's called getting mugged, Brady, and that happens every day," Collin snickered. "Although the tights add an air of—"

"_Stupidness_?"

"I'm buying you a thesaurus for Christmas."

"Collin, I can spell just fine. Asshole."

There was silence, because Collin was nicer than to make fun of Brady, at least some of the time. Collin watched the blonde and her nutcracker doll. Brady fell asleep. The dudes kept leaping.

Yeah. That was about all Collin and Brady got out of it.

* * *

**Tucked In The Closet (Post TIC:B2)**

"Hey Collin? You got any skeletons in your closet?"

The young wolf looked at his friend, who was draped across Collin's bed. Brady wasn't welcome around here anymore, but that didn't stop Collin from dragging his friend home constantly. After all, papa wolves or not, both pups were aware that the older wolves tended to get tired of them and to be honest, Brady didn't really have many other places to go. Collin was spinning circles on his desk chair, a half full can of Pepsi balanced on his forehead, and he paused momentarily. Brady had been pretty reticent this summer, ever since Calgary, even around Collin. But Brady was drinking, drinking heavily the way he had grown prone to doing, and when he drank he talked. He talked about things that were better left unsaid.

"Skeletons? We've got the whole Pack mind thing working against us, dude," Collin chuckled. "It's not like we can hide much from each other." Except what Brady talked about. Collin did everything he could to hide that from the rest of the Pack. "Anyways, you spent half your childhood sleeping in my closet. Beside my dirty ass socks, there's not much there. Why do you ask?"

There was a poster of Jessica Alba on Collin's wall, and Brady eyed it gloomily. "I don't know…I guess I'm just used to being Pack and sometimes the imprints…"

"Have a lot of shit in their closets that take us by total fucking surprise when we least expect it?"

"Pretty much."

Collin chuckled and went back to spinning, although slower this time. "I don't know, it doesn't bother me. Maybe it's supposed to be that way, girls being all mysterious and that shit."

"Maybe," the slightly older wolf grunted, and Collin was quiet a moment. When he spoke again, his voice was soft.

"Hey, Brady?"

"Yeah?"

"Some closets we gotta stay out of," Collin warned gently. "You and me, it's smarter to just stay out of them." Brady knew that, but then again, Brady's closet was chalk full of skeletons. Grimacing, the wolf took another drink. Collin suddenly laughed and spun a little faster. "Okay, I have one skeleton," he admitted. "But this shit has to stay between you and me, you know how Jake and Embry and Quil get about Quil's mom."

The older wolf stopped staring at Jessica Alba for a moment, his interest piqued. "What did you do?"

"It wasn't me, man," Collin snickered, "I was minding my own damn business when we were all over there last summer helping remodel the back room. It's not my fault that I actually stumbled across a porno flick stash. I may have snagged a few and returned them later."

Brady snorted, shaking his head. "Dude, if Mr. Ateara finds out you watched his shit…"

"Wrong Ateara, Brade," Collin snickered. "Although in my defense, that's what I assumed when I grabbed the unmarked tapes."

"Quil's mom has a porno stash?" Brady asked, laughing one of the first real laughs Collin had heard since they came home. "Eww, and you watched the shit?"

Collin's grinned widened. "When I realized who was staring in the show, hell yeah I did. Home movies these days, what a trip."

Brady spit out the moonshine, and then his eyes grew wide. "Quil's mom has a sex tape?"

"Quil's mom has a fucking _mini-series_ going on," Collin smirked. "And I know how it ends."

Brady shuddered. "Okay, I know that she's kinda hot, but Mr. Ateara…"

"Running the camera, dude, running the camera."

"Then who…?"

"Who do you think? Who was always over at the Atearas?"

"…No way. No fucking way! Embry's mom?!"

"Yep. She was really hot ten years ago, by the way."

"You're shitting me."

"Nope."

"You HAVE to be shitting me."

"Drink your shit man, you'll need some backbone for this. And the copies I made are all in that shoebox under my dirty ass socks."

"No shit?"

"No shit."

Brady smirked, drained his bottle, and then laughed. "Collin, you're such a fucking liar. You don't have a skeleton in your closet, you have a whole shitload of skeletons in your closet." And by the end of the evening, after a new set of tapes had been made, Brady's closet was just a little more full than before.

* * *

**Moist Delicious Paul's Mom (Post TIC:B3)**

Cassie peered down into the pan, tentatively poking at the brownish lump that lay within with a butter knife. "Collin? What was this supposed to be again?"

The young wolf was sitting crosslegged on the cabin floor, flipping through a car magazine as they waited for their most recent culinary attempt to finish cooking. Cassie had been looking at it earlier, but she was more interested in a twenty year old blonde from Ohio than a sixty year old Plymouth Barracuda any day of the week, so she had dived into some of Collin's other magazines.

"Moist delicious apple cake," Collin muttered absently, turning the magazine sideways. "Tammy's favorite, if you read that magazine for the articles the way I do. You know, I really miss your car, Cass."

"The Shaggin' Waggin' runs now," Cassie reminded him, poking at the cake again. It refused to give, and she frowned, sniffing. "Are you sure you put apples in this? It doesn't smell like it."

Collin smirked and pointed to an empty jar on top of the trash. "While you were making verbal love to Tammy, I was adding applesauce."

Tammy, the twenty year old blonde of both Cassie and Collin's dreams, was now folded somewhat awkwardly next to the stove top. One perfectly tanned leg bent sideways as Cassie shoved the magazine over a little more and set the butter knife down where Tammy's other parts had been.

"Maybe it'll soften up and become more moist as it cools down," Cassie chirped hopefully, picking Tammy back up as Collin sighed lustily and set the Barracuda down.

"What'll soften up and become more moist?" Paul asked, sticking his head in the front door. He had been hiding outside under the pretense of "fixing something". When Cassie and Collin were cooking, it was usually safer that way.

Cassie grinned as Collin replied instinctively, "Your mom." Paul stared at him for a moment, and Collin realized his mistake. He gulped and then hit Paul with his most charming grin. "Ahhh…your mom who is a very upstanding and well respected woman, despite her absence from La Push? No moistness need apply?"

"Paul's mom is moist," Cassie sniggered, hiding behind her magazine, nose in Tammy's belly button and she peered over the top carefully. Paul's gaze was now aimed at her, although she could see he was trying not to smile. Her husband walked into the kitchen, stole Cassie's magazine, and dropped a kiss on her nose.

"My mom is always moist," he whispered, causing her to burst out laughing as he straightened and winked at her sexily.

"Ewww, dude!" Collin declared, making a disgusted face as Paul sauntered back towards the door, magazine in hand. "That's your mom! You're nasty, Paul."

Cassie made a sad face. "He stole Tammy. Oh well, at least we still have her moist delicious apple cake." She poked it again.

"Did it move?"

"No."

"Then do it harder."

"I did!"

"No you didn't, put some Russian muscle into it, Cass."

"I am, I am!"

"You're shaming the mother country…"

There was a burst of words that signified that Cassie was letting Collin know exactly what she thought of that comment, not that any of the rest of them would ever get to know. But Collin was laughing, because riling her up enough to get her yelling in Russian always cracked him up. Outside on the porch, Paul smirked and shook his head. At his side, a squirrel was sitting on a magazine spread, systematically gnawing at Tammy's Achilles' heels, and in the house Paul was pretty sure Collin just got hit in the face with a moistless apple cake.

"Never change," he told his little world, a smile on his face. "Never ever change."

* * *

**Four Collin Birds (TIC:Lost Chapters Brady)**

"Four Collin birds, three french hens, two turtle doves…"

"Dude, it's colly birds, not Collin birds."

"No, it's not. It's Collin birds, that's how my mom sang it to me when I was little and that's how it will remain."

"You know, my mom used to make me clean up her puke off the carpet before dad got home when I was little. Yours was fucking making you songs. How fair is that?"

"Sure, sure, bust out the Brady cleaning puke story. You know, that stopped working on me when you used it to guilt me into giving you my desserts out of my lunch box in fifth grade."

"It was really gross, Collin."

"Whatever, dude."

"And I had to do it alllll the time."

"Not listening."

"And dad would get home and-"

"La la la, I can't hear you, la la laaaaa!"

"And then he…and then…"

"Okay fine! _Fine_. Four _Brady_ birds, three french hens, two turtle doves…are you happy now?"

"Heh. You're such a sucker."

"I hate you."

"…So, you gonna eat those? Your mom makes the best sugar cookies."

"Get your own cookies, douchebag."

"…"

"…"

"You know _my_ mom…"

"Just fucking take them."


	16. Chapter 16

A/N In a couple days, I'll stop posting these. When I do, it's a good thing, because that means I'm writing the next chapter of TIC. ;)

**TIC Extra #16**

**Timeline**: Both drabbles are from TIC:B3

**Characters**: Jacob Black, Samantha Carter

**Rating**: T

**Word Count**: 2839

**Warnings**: Mild Jacob POV spoilers

* * *

**Killing The Pumpkin (TIC:B3, before Halloween)**

"So remind me why we're doing this again?"

The Alpha leveled a smirk at the girl standing next to him. They were out behind Jake's house, the utensils necessary for pumpkin destruction laid out in front of them, including at least two dozen of the various sized fruit.

"Because you can't sleep," Jake told Samantha honestly. "And when you can't sleep, Emb can't sleep. And when you _and_ Emb can't sleep, in the middle of the night I suddenly find myself unable to sleep too. There's only so much I can block, Samantha."

Samantha flushed at that a little, muttering, "We're not _that_ bad."

"I'm not talking about the endless scrumping, apple girl," Jake chuckled, leaning down and picking up one of the objects on the ground and hefting it in his hand experimentally. "Although I'm tempted to go on a sex spree just to show you what that's like coming from the other side of the imprint bond," he added ruefully, offering her the pumpkin destruction device.

"A sex spree?" she smirked back, her hand on her hip as she accepted said object. "You mean prostitutes? And here I thought you were just as strapped for cash as the rest of us."

He shot her an amused look as he picked up a largish pumpkin, one that most people would have grunted a little in lifting, although to the Alpha it was no heavier than a soda can. "That's Collin, not me. Trust me, if I wanted it, I could get it, no payment plans needed."

"Keep telling yourself that," she said, although she was smiling. "Although I have to admit, I can appreciate the choice of weaponry. I didn't even know you had this kind of stuff."

"Emb pitched in," Jake shrugged. "And oddly enough, Quil did too. Did you know he's into all that renaissance fair stuff?"

"Nope, and if he's into it for anything other than the beer and the wenches, I don't want to know, Jacob Black," Samantha decided as she stepped back from the wolf and gave her object a test spin. Her hand wasn't wrapped up anymore from her damaged fingernails, making it easier to keep hold of it properly, and Samantha was smiling even bigger by the time she adopted a proper stance, the naginata balanced down the length of her arm. "Very cool," she murmured.

"You're scary," Jake decided, although he seemed to enjoy watching her enjoy herself.

"Says the Alpha that makes everyone piss themselves when he frowns."

"Hey, I just claw and bite things into bloody shreds, or occasionally order my Pack to do the clawing and biting for me," Jake disagreed. "You're brandishing that thing like you're a ninja. Ninjas are much more frightening."

"You should see me with a katana," Samantha chuckled. "I once gave someone a haircut on purpose." He raised an eyebrow, and she grinned prettily. "She looked better when I was done. Okay, so what're we doing again?"

"You're destroying pumpkins."

"Cool. Why exactly?" The Alpha gave her a knowing look, and Samantha's smile fell. "Jake, I'm okay," she said quietly, lowering her naginata. "I've been having bad dreams, but that's not exactly surprising. My dad's been better about Embry coming over, so I'm never alone at night. I'm _fine_."

Jake nodded, and without warning he was on top of her, snatching her by her hair and shoving her into the side of the house. Her panic attack was instant, and although she got in one good swipe with the blade before he jerked it away from her, Samantha completely fell apart, kicking and biting and clawing to get away from him. She wasn't sure how long it lasted, only that she came to herself curled up in a ball against the steps leading into the house, trembling violently. Jake was crouched down next to her, and he was humming a soft tune she recognized. It was the one that Embry had hummed when they were coming back from Calgary, one he crooned to her regularly when her nightmares sent her gasping from her bed. She focused on the sound, what it represented to her, and she was able to force herself back into a level of calmness.

Jake was smart. He hadn't touched her to sooth her. Only Embry could get away with that.

"You're not okay," he told her quietly as she grabbed the railing and hauled herself to her feet, angling so that she was no longer cornered by him. Jake stayed where he was, watching her with knowing eyes. "You're more okay than most, but you're not okay. And since you won't act like anything happened around anyone but Brady, who is _definitely_ not okay, then you need other ways of getting your emotions out. Don't think I don't know you front when Embry's around, when you two are training. There's a lot more anger in you than you let on, Samantha Carter."

"Don't do that to me again, Jacob Black," Samantha snarled, grabbing up her naginata again and snapping it around into a defensive position. "And stay out of my business. I'll do you a favor and stay out of yours."

The Alpha stood up and advanced at her. "Too late. I'm your _Alpha_. I'm the wolf that imprinted on you, and you're dating my brother. You're attached at the hip to my she-wolf, half adopted as my Beta's new sister, and one of the major reasons that Brady still forces himself to function each day. That _makes_ you my business. And if I wasn't _your_ business, you wouldn't keep such close tabs on me."

"Who says I keep close tabs on you?" He gave her a knowing look, and Samantha sighed. "Okay, maybe I keep close tabs on you. But it's only because…" she drifted off, flushing slightly. A hand came down on her shoulder, and she stiffened. But no one was there, and for the slightest moment, she shifted into his touch.

"You keep close tabs on me because you know it's safest next to me."

It was true, and that sucked. It felt wrong, like she was cheating on Embry.

"That day in the cave, you were trying to get to me. Not Emb, not Paul, _me_. Do you think that there's a single moment where I felt guilty about wanting to get to _you_ that day too? You're my imprint, Samantha. If you love Emb, that's fine. I do too. And there's certain things about each other that makes us keep our distance. But I know exactly where you are every single day, and I have no problem with you doing the same. And yes, no matter how badass Emb is, no matter what he'd do to protect you, Emb's not the Alpha. I am. I'm the biggest, I'm the baddest, and I've got a fistful of wolves to back that up. The safest place for you, if anything attacked us, is with _me_."

She didn't answer, and after a moment, Jake's hand dropped. He stuffed both hands in his pockets and stepped back.

"Listen, I know you and Emb take a lot of shit about being together, but I'd rather things be like this than the alternative. I get to still be me, when I'm imprinted to you. I'm not suddenly in love with a stranger. I'm not suddenly someone else. I'm me, there's just you in my head too, but sometimes that can be a problem. You're distracting me and a distracted Alpha is a bad Alpha. So I'm in your business. When I can snatch you up like that and you try to kick my ass instead of panicking, the way you would've before, then I'll quit."

Samantha nodded her understanding of that, lips pursing. "You're saying I should expect you to attack me?"

"I'm saying that we've learned that attacks can come when we least expect them. You're my imprint, Samantha, and I need your head in the game to keep my head in the game. The next time I'm having problems, you can do this for me. You're welcome by the way."

"You're a dick."

"I'm right."

"This is pretty sharp, wolf," Samantha decided coolly, and she suddenly lunged at him. He may or may not have let her give him that slice in his shirt.

The Alpha nodded, sidestepping and squaring off with her, a pumpkin once more in his hands. "Good imprint," he chuckled. "Now, kill Chitakido." He held up the pumpkin, which looked at her innocently. Samantha flinched at the name, and then snarled.

"What the _hell_, Jake?" she asked, but he cut her off.

"I _get it_. I get it more than you think. You're not Cassie," Jake replied, almost gently. "You never got a chance to defeat your enemies, and having that hovering over you is upsetting. Since I already killed the fucker, this is the best I can do. Next time I'll hold him down and let you carve out his entrails, next time I'll let you kill him yourself. This time, kill the pumpkin. It's okay to be vicious instead of pretty and delicate," he added with a smirk. "It's not like you're trying to impress _me_."

To be honest, when she decapitated the pumpkin, her blade swiping exactly between his second and third fingers on either side, he might have been a touch impressed. Samantha watched the pumpkin head roll and then her glare turned into a tiny smirk. "So we're killing _Chitakido_ today, that's why we're doing this."

"His Beta too," Jake added, indicating a second pile of gigantic multicolored squash. The smirk turned into an evil grin.

It was that day that Jacob Black learned something new about his imprint. She was scary. Okay, he had already known that, but Samantha took so much pleasure from beheading, scooping out seed filled entrails, carving pained looking faces, and viciously slicing said pumpkin Alphas to their repeated demise, that it took him aback a little. But then again she often surprised him. As Samantha Carter sat with Jacob Black amongst the Great Alpha Pumpkin Massacre of La Push, feeling better then she had in weeks, she realized something.

Sometimes he surprised her too.

* * *

**Hold On (TIC:B3, after Halloween)**

"Okay, we're going to do this very slowly."

"You don't have to look so scared."

"I'm not scared."

"You are too scared. See? You're shaking like a little girl."

"You know, people sometimes shake from rage. Or general annoyance…sonofa—Dammit! Not that one!"

"How was I supposed to know that? I'm barely tall enough to keep this thing upright."

"That's why I'm sitting behind you. But stop grabbing things, I'm trying to teach you here."

"No, you're trying not to piss your pants. Come on, be honest, Jacob. I'm your imprint, I know these things."

"You know, you only seem to be my imprint when it suits you, Samantha Carter, usually just to bother me. The rest of the time you're magically Embry's girlfriend. How the hell does he put up with you and your big mouth?"

"I'm really good in bed."

"Ha!"

"Actually I am. And just like you said…big mouth."

"…"

"What does this do?"

"Dammit Samantha! Stop grabbing the throttle!"

"I don't know why you're even bothering to do this. It doesn't make any sense."

"If we get attacked, my bike's faster than Emb's truck. That's why."

"And Leah's bike is faster than your bike, and I can reach the ground on hers. Why aren't we doing this on her bike?"

"Do you know how much her bike cost? And how hard it'll be for you not to get killed on it?"

"Do you ever get bugs in your mouth?"

"What?"

"Bugs. When you drive do you ever get bugs in your mouth?"

"That's disgusting."

"That's what I'm saying, it's disgusting."

"…"

"…So…?"

"Sometimes. And you will too."

"I'm not driving this thing without a helmet, Jake."

"Trust me, I value my own skin way too much to let you bust up yours. We're not going faster than ten miles an hour anyways. If you can't survive crashing at that speed, then you're defective and I'm ordering a new imprint, this one a blonde."

"Kind of like that blow up doll that Quil ordered you last year?"

"Erg! Does Leah have to tell you _everything_?"

"That was Brady actually."

"Whatever. You got your balance?"

"Yes….No. Ahh!"

"Don't drop my bike."

"This thing is heavy!"

"Don't drop it."

"Argh!"

"You're dropping it."

"Sonofabitch!"

"Good girl. You're stronger than you look."

"Bite me…Oww! Hey!"

"Hmm?"

"Don't actually do it. And NOT there. Only Embry bites me there."

"You're my imprint."

"I'm _his_ girlfriend."

"You just proved my point about being my imprint when it suits you."

"…I think I hate you."

"Really? It looks so much different from over here. Okay, this time gently with the throttle, because I'm getting off. You're on your own now. Samantha, the throttle."

"Oh crap…I'm going to crash your bike."

"Girls do that."

"No, seriously, Jake, I don't want to do this. I'm going to crash it and damage it and I can't pay to fix it."

"Then don't drop it."

"Oh shit!"

"If you wobble like that, you're going to drop it."

"Ahh!"

"You know, this is kind of like watching a five year old learn how to ride a bike without training wheels. Damn, you scratched it."

"Jake, I can't pay to fix this…"

"Whatever. It'll buff out."

"…"

"It'll buff out, now try again…Easy on the throttle…"

"AHH!"

"Dammit, Samantha, does the word 'easy' mean anything to you?"

"Besides when referring to a specific wolf that will remain unnamed? No. I'm bleeding, aren't I?"

"Girl's do that too."

"Ahh!"

"Stop screaming, and put this on your arm. Seriously, chill out. You've seen me shirtless before."

"Yes, but up close is much more frightening."

"Most girls are impressed. Didn't you know that I'm sort of beautiful?"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"It means I'm sort of beautiful. A girl told me that once."

"That's bullshit."

"I kind of liked it."

"No seriously, Jake, that's bullshit. That's like saying 'I'm kind of into you but not enough to count'."

"…"

"Don't let people say that shit to you. It's crap."

"You say much worse, Samantha. Get back on the bike, we're doing this again."

"…"

"Samantha, get on the bike."

"When did bitch girl tell you this?"

"A couple years ago when I was teaching her how to ride. Right here actually, and it was Bella Sw—Cullen, but we're not talking about this anymore. Now get on the bike."

"…"

"…What?"

"I'm done."

"What?"

"I'm done. If Embry's truck fails to save me, then whatever. But this little scene is over."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Hey Jake? I don't give a rat's ass if I'm dating your brother or not. I'm your imprint ALL the time, even when it's a fucking nightmare, so no more Bella scenes. I'm not her."

"This isn't about Bella. And don't you dare even start to presume to talk about her, you don't know a fucking thing about it. Now, get on the bike, Samantha!"

"No."

"Yes!"

"No!"

"Mother fucker!"

….

….

"Will that buff out?"

"No."

"Thought so. Nice temper tantrum, by the way."

"Whatever."

"…Hey Jake?"

"What?"

"How many girls have you taught to ride a bike since her?"

"…"

"Jaaaaake. How many?"

"…Seven."

"Did it ever work?"

"Did what ever work?"

"The recreation of that wonderful magical time in your life."

"You're a bitch."

"As he dodges the question."

"I'm not dodging the question, cause you are a bitch…But no, it's never worked."

"That's because 'sort of beautiful' is bullshit and so is this. No more Bella scenes, at least not around me. Come on, get on the bike, I'm hungry."

"Fine…You buying?"

"No."

"_I'm_ not buying."

"I know. I didn't say we were eating, I said I wanted to leave because I was hungry."

"I don't fucking get you at all."

"That's because I'm a whole new chapter baby, and you're still in the last book."

"Horror novel?"

"Depends who you ask."

"Jacob Black's personal nightmare caught on paper?"

"Hmmm, how about the sequel? Oh hey! I'm driving!"

"Don't dump my bike."

"I won't."

"You're dumping it."

"No, I'm not."

"Yes you are."

"Ahh—oh. We're fine! Or, we're fine because your monster leg put your monster foot on the ground. Damn, I thought I had it to."

"Monster feet? You shouldn't look so shocked, I told you I wouldn't let you get hurt anymore."

"…"

"…"

"Thanks."

"Yeah, sure."

"…"

"…"

"Hey, Jake?"

"Yeah, Samantha?"

"The next time some girl tells you you're sort of beautiful, let me know. I'll kick her ass."

"…Thanks."

"…"

"Okay, enough of this mushy shit. Give it more throttle. Open it up."

"All the way? Are you sure?"

"No, honey, I'm not sure at all. But I'm willing to give it a shot."

"Then hold on."


	17. Chapter 17

**TIC Extra #17**

**Timeline**: Timeline is TIC:B3, right before Embry and Samantha's Halloween party, where Jack imprints on Renesmee.

**Characters**: Paul, Cassie (minor Shane Qahla)

**Rating**: T

**Word Count**: 987

**Warnings**: Ummm…Paul's stinger?

* * *

**The Benefits Of Physical Gratification Via Eternally Imprinted Bliss**

"Cass," The large man grumbled as he was dragged into the bathroom by his imprint. "Seriously, this is ridiculous."

"No it's not, Paul," Cassie chirped brightly. "It's clever. And more than that, it's an important American tradition, and since I'm American now, along with being Quileute and Russian, I have to observe all the customs as such. You should be proud of me Paul. Most wives wouldn't go to this much effort to make sure they were keeping their husbands happy. Not only do I keep you fed with my delicious baked goods, and rock your socks with near gymnastic level flexibility and endurance sexually, I also make sure to be properly American on holidays. It's hard, what with being Russian Monday through Thursday and Quileute Friday through Sunday, but I do my best. Hold still, your antenna is falling off."

"Since when are you Russian on Thursdays?" Paul, being the only person in La Push that could actually follow Cassie's line of thought without trying, asked as she poked at his whisker and started adjusting his face paint. Face paint that made him look like a bee. A _stupid_ looking bee. "I thought you were an imprint on Thursdays."

"Since I couldn't figure out how to not be an imprint the rest of the days," Cassie sighed, turning around and washing her hands off. "It was very confusing, especially considering how often you guys run around changing things up on us imprints. Really Paul, being in this Pack is very high maintenance, and there are only so many life roles a girl can undertake. This is seriously cutting in on my time left to be an astronaut or a florist."

Paul gave his tiny wife a grin over her head in the mirror and snuck a squeeze on her rear end. It was still a little scrawny, but it was hers so he liked it. "Okay, momma," he chuckled, kissing her neck fondly. "Now I understand the strategically placed flowers. But you're gonna freeze your butt off tonight, you know that right?"

"For free candy?" the flowery imprint declared happily, grabbing up her empty flower vase. "I would do _anything_. Paul, we're going trick or treating! Aren't you excited?"

His response was a grunt as he followed her out the door. The air was cool that night but not freezing, probably a good thing. Still, Paul made sure to keep his warm arm around Cassie's bare none flowery parts. Which was most of her parts. The woman needed to put some damn clothes on. But she was nearly bouncing with excitement, meaning she had lost some petals along the way, and Paul wasn't sure between his outfit and hers if they'd last long out in public without being arrested. Except for the crap on his head and the crap hanging off his ass, he was nearly as unclothed as she was.

"I still don't understand my costume though," Paul grumbled as they walked along, Cassie holding his hand and beaming at him every so often. "Seriously, Cass, this is the stupidest thing I have EVER worn. Why a damn bee?"

"Because bees hover around flowers, Paul," Cassie explained, tugging on him a little faster as they approached the first house. It was Collin's, and Paul knew for a fact the kid was waiting there with candy. Why? Because Paul had made sure of it. Cass wanted candy, then they would provide it. "And you're not a _bee_. You're the largest hornet species in the world, the Asian giant hornet. Do you know how many people die from being stung repeatedly by this insect? You are very large and very dangerous, Paul, I would have thought you would have appreciated the venomous violence of your costume."

"I'm a _bee_."

"A hornet, Paul."

"A hornet that looks like a _bee_. And hornets eat other insects, Cass. So if I'm a hornet, there's no reason I would be hovering around a flower."

The imprint sniffed delicately and lost another petal. Paul may have pulled it off when she wasn't looking. "Some people," she sighed, "They just don't understand…Oooh, pretty lights!" Cassie lunged sideways, because that was not Collin's house, and Paul followed with a pained expression, thinking that if he survived Halloween, his imprint was going to be _driven_ everywhere during Christmas. Bright sparkly things tended to distract her far too much, and he had horrible images of Cassie wrapping her Shaggin' Waggin' around a Christmas tree.

As the approached the door, Cassie looked back over her shoulder and gave Paul a wink. "Hey, Paul?"

"Hmm?" He was not embarrassed. He was not embarrassed. He was _not_ embarrassed.

"Hornets may not hover around flowers," she said archly as she rang the doorbell. "But if you stop being mean looking, and at least try to be nice, I'll let you pollinate me tonight. _Twice_. But I want to get at least a whole vase full of candy first."

Twice, huh? The wolf smirked at that and snagged off another petal, then stood behind her as a sleepy looking Shane Qahla opened his front door, looking a little bemused as Cassie chirped "Trick or treat!"

Shane looked at the florist, waking up a little and grinning. "Trick?"

Paul narrowed his eyes.

"Give her all your candy," Paul growled, maybe a little too aggressively. Shane blinked as Paul added in a dangerous voice, "_Now_."

And so maybe they went house to house that night, causing more than one adolescent boy to hit puberty because of Cassie's flowers, and Nikki Connweller to have a stroke when Cassie asked the girl if she liked Paul's stinger. And maybe just maybe some of the people misunderstood, and thought Paul had robbed them. But hey, Cassie got her candy and as she went on a spiel about the benefits of physical gratification via eternally imprinted bliss, Paul got to use his stinger.

_Twice_.

He could get used to this.


	18. Chapter 18

A/N I wrote this for _piscesworld_. Your review about enjoying Jake and Sims on their own sparked this piece to life. It's a little dark, but I hope you like it. :)

**TIC Extra #18**

**Timeline**: The scene is set during TIC: B3, before Sims phases to help save Seth.

**Characters**: Jacob, Samantha (minor Brady and Collin)

**Rating**: M

**Word Count**: 3031

**Warnings**: Mild language, dark themes, Spoilers for Jake's POV

* * *

There were things that Samantha Carter thought about.

She thought about school, about her classes and her tests and her grades. She thought about her boyfriend, and his dojo, and the way his back muscles rippled when he did kata shirtless in between his classes. She thought about Leah, and she thought about Seth, and she thought about Brady. She thought about her father, and that invariably made her think about her mother. She thought about her family the way it had been, a single parent and a single child with no siblings. She thought about her family now, scattered between different houses and four…maybe five people she loved.

She thought about college and going away and coming back again. About groceries and bills and martial arts training, about wolves and vampires and secrets and lies. Invariably she would think about school again, because usually she was in school when she started thinking those things.

But sometimes…sometimes Samantha thought about Jacob Black.

It was hard not to. For as much space as they liked to pretend they gave each other, they were far more entangled in each other's lives than anyone in the Pack knew. She woke up most mornings in Embry's arms, but not every morning, depending on his patrol schedule. But Samantha _always_ woke up to Jake. She always fell asleep to Jake. And when she dreamed, Samantha sometimes dreamed Jake's dreams.

It had taken her awhile to figure that out, but she was learning. After all, she had never dreamed about holding a slimmer, smaller body beneath hers and doing the same things to it that her dreams told her she wanted to do. But he dreamed constantly, and it was hard to tell her own dreams apart from his. Last night it had been a truck that she kept trying to fix. Each time she had put something back on, something else fell off. The faster she worked, the faster it fell apart, and pretty soon even the paint was falling off in bubbled, cracked flakes.

Samantha had woken up with tears in her eyes from the sheer frustration, unable to stop those tears from welling up and slipping down her face. He hid it so well, that frustration, but Samantha knew what the rest of them didn't know.

She knew how deeply Jake could hate.

Samantha knew that as much as he had missed his Pack when he had been gone, that Jake hated being there. The Alpha still dreamed of being on the road again, with no one that needed him, with nothing tying him down. He dreamed of being stuck in a hole that he could never climb out of, no matter how close he made it to the top. He dreamed of being bound by a massive chain around his throat, one that choked him every time he tried to move. He dreamed that chain was tied to his tribe and his Pack and his family.

And most often Jacob Black dreamed that chain stretched between Samantha and himself. That it wrapped around her throat too, choking the life from both of them as she continued to fight. Sometimes he would give up fighting and step closer to keep them both from dying. Sometimes he would keep fighting as much as she did, until they ended up killing each other.

Sometimes…sometimes he held onto the chain a few inches from his throat and keep it tight between his fist and her neck, letting her strangle herself all alone until the only one left standing was him.

Those nights he always woke up when she did, flooded with so much anger and resentment and fear and guilt that Samantha didn't know how to process it. But she would know that he'd be particularly careful around her the following day, particularly nice, as if trying to compensate the fact that he dreamed about killing her and saving himself from her. And the Pack would see Jake being so considerate to her, and so kind to her, and they just wouldn't understand why she would watch him so warily, or why she'd find ways to angle herself between Jake and Embry, or Jake and Brady, to protect those that she cared most about from the Alpha. They never understood why she stiffened when he brushed her arm on accident, or why so often when Jake was around, she smelled scared.

She supposed that it wasn't entirely fair to be scared of him for his subconscious not wanting to be a slave to another. But the thing was, Samantha was pretty sure that the dreams between them weren't just going one way, and that Jake was seeing more of her than she wanted him to see. Samantha's dreams during the day were bright and hopeful, of the life she wanted and the life she was determined to have. But her dreams at night were darker, more violent, of the life that she had had so far and the places she had never told anyone she had been. The person she had been, and still was, at bottom of her soul where no one but Jake could find her.

What he thought of what he saw down there, Jake never said, but then again, neither did Samantha when it came to him. Jake's dreams were a secret that she kept, and her dreams were a secret he kept, and only they knew the truth about each other.

Only they knew, and that was the balance between them. He was too powerful, too dangerous, too frightening. She was too cold, too unpredictable, too violent. So they circled each other even as they sat next to each other in English class, only a few inches away. Ready, waiting, always aware.

Always aware.

Her in the front of the classroom, because it helped her focus better. Him because it was the most leg room, if he was in the front. Her small and compact in her seat, one leg bent between her chest and the desk, her elbow resting on her knee comfortably. Him slouching and trying to make his massive frame fit comfortably in a chair that would never be comfortable. Her tapping her pencil against her desk lightly as she tried to think of something else but him. Him frowning at the notebook on the desk in front of him, listening to her pencil tapping. Him thinking about her too, because at this proximity, it was impossible for him to not know what she was focusing on.

Their eyes met, and for a moment they both knew. They _knew_.

They both looked away.

* * *

Sometimes, Jacob Black hunted Samantha Carter.

He thought of it as following, but the truth was that he wasn't actually following her…he was hunting her. Jake supposed he could blame it on the wolf inside him, but in truth his wolf was blended so seamlessly within himself that it was impossible for him to differentiate between what Jake the wolf wanted and what Jake the human wanted, what Jake the wolf liked and what Jake the human liked. There was just Jake, human and wolf, and Alpha. And the Alpha liked to hunt her.

He liked to trail her through the crowded hallways, liked to find her scent amongst all the others, liked to see where she would go to try to shake them off her tail. He liked to watch and wait and see what she was going to do next. And when she wasn't doing something interesting enough, Jake would…press. Angle her in a corner. Step between her and Embry. Keep his eyes on the back of her neck, which she hated.

Make her move, make her shift, make her be more herself. More interesting. Something better to pay attention to than this school or this street or this reservation.

It was weird and Jake knew it. And he knew she knew what he was doing, and it was just one more of the things that could go on her list of why she wanted to keep him at a distance from her. Because he wasn't Paul, in love with his imprint and wanting to stand between her and everything else. He wasn't Jared, who needed that partnership with his imprint to keep him functional. He wasn't Jack, a wolf whose loneliness had nearly driven him insane and had found someone equally lonely to be his match. No, Jake was something else entirely, and the wolf spirit inside him was something else entirely.

Sometimes, when he hunted Samantha Carter, Jacob Black imagined catching her.

He imagined catching her and putting his hands on her waist, sliding them across her stomach and holding her the way he'd seen Jared hold Kim. He imagined sniffing her hair and her shoulder and whispering that she was perfect for him, everything to him, the way Paul did with Cassie. Sometimes Jake imagined catching her, hoisting her too slender body up against his too large torso and fucking her senseless, making her scream his name instead of his brother's just to prove he could make her want him the way she was supposed to. To break her down and force her to treat him the way the legends had said she should, the way she treated everyone else but him. To make someone finally choose _him_ already. Sometimes Jake imagined catching her and wrapping his hand around Samantha Carter's throat and snapping her neck, just to see if he could be the first wolf to ever free himself from the perversion that was imprinting by sheer fucking will.

Mostly he hunted her just to prove that at the end of the hunt, that he wouldn't do any of the three.

English class was over, and she was moving, and he was hunting her through hallways that were too small. Past people that were too hard not to bump into, and too easy to accidentally step on. Past too many bodies and too many smells. Too many emotions and too much confusion. Past wolves that watched him hunt her, wolves that would never understand.

They would never understand what it was like to be tied to something that he wanted, and that he needed, but that he hated. They would never understand her fear, and they would never understand his anger because he would never let them see it. He would never let them know how much he didn't want them sometimes, because he knew exactly how much every single one of them wanted him. Jake needed them, all of them, even if he didn't want them the way they thought he did. But he needed them, desperately, even the girl with the short ponytail, the one eyeing him as she crossed the hall and turned down another he wouldn't need to go down, just to see if yes, he was actually following her.

Yes, he was actually following her. Hunting her. Using her so that he didn't go batshit fucking insane in this place.

His Pack would never understand. They would just see her turn, bumping her hip into the drinking fountain, because she couldn't stand the eyes on the back of her neck anymore. They would never understand that he needed this, needed to corner her against a drinking fountain, and then smile at her crookedly, like she was being silly to be so tense around him. Jake had only wanted to get a drink of water, and this was the closest one. It was just a drink of water, Samantha. Relax.

Sometimes Jake hunted Samantha Carter. And he would keep hunting her, over and over and over again, until whatever this was, was done between them. His fingers brushing her arm so slightly, and her shiver that always made Collin frown. The confusion in Brady's eyes when she angled between his locker and the mild expression on Jake's face. The pride that kept her standing there, as the Alpha bent down and took a long slow drink before straightening.

Their eyes met again, because she knew. She _knew_.

Like always, they both looked away.

* * *

Sometimes Jacob Black cut class with Samantha Carter.

They would never talk about it, or decide to do it. But sometimes, when she was thinking about him, and he had been hunting her footsteps through his world too aggressively, Samantha slipped out into the woods instead of going to study hall. Despite the steadily dripping rain, Jake would follow, up until she turned around to face him…she always preferred to face him…and he would step past her. Then he would lead her through the trees, feeling the weight of _her_ gaze on his neck now, resting between his shoulder blades. Each time they would go deeper into the forest, because each day was harder than the last, and at least out here Jake was free from at least some of his prisons.

He would start breathing heavier, arms folded above his head as that mild expression fell, giving way to harsher things. This time he would turn to face her, and what she saw there would always make Samantha flinch, but she was brave enough that she could handle it. She had always been able to handle it, him, them, even when she wasn't handling it. She would always cope, always survive, and maybe that's what made it so much easier to focus on her than anything else.

She had never needed his dreams to see right through him.

Sometimes Jake was convinced that he could destroy the world if he wanted to, if he let that hatred find something weaker than her to turn it towards. Sometimes Samantha watched him hate her, and stood there, cold and hard but indestructible. Wordlessly he would rage about the school and the rez, about phasing and leeches, and life being fucked up. Wordlessly she would listen. Wordlessly she would let that rage wash over her, beat down across her shoulders, and she would do what the rest of them couldn't…She would survive it.

She would take it, accept it, live through it, even when she was afraid. And then, when she wasn't thinking about other things, and he had made sure that all she could do was focus on him, only _him_, Jacob Black would hunt Samantha Carter again.

These were better hunting grounds, and since there was no one else to protect from him, she wouldn't be able to get away. Samantha's shoulders would hit a tree, or a rock, or the flat of his hand, there would be nowhere to go. And he'd put his nose against her neck, and he'd smell her, deep desperate breathes, hands shaking like a heroin addict until he'd gotten his fix. Her too slender body would fit too well against his too large one, and her fingers would dig into his scalp as she gripped his hair.

For a moment, they would consider it.

Sometimes Jacob Black's thighs would press against Samantha's Carter's, his hand tangling into her hair, and he'd think about things. He'd think about stripping her naked beneath the steadily pouring rain, unzipping his jeans and fucking her while staring at the back of her neck, so she'd love it and hate it at the same time. He'd think about chains choking him to death, and never getting what he wanted even when he didn't want it.

Sometimes Samantha Carter's breasts would press against Jacob Black's chest, and she'd hunt him. She'd hunt the confusion in his eyes, remind him of the fear in his own heart, and she'd corner him against his own beliefs. She'd hunt the brother and the Alpha that loved, drawing him past the man that hated, past the frustration and the guilt and the anger.

Sometimes Jake would remember that for better or worse, at least one person understood, and Samantha would finally remember that whether Jake wanted an imprint or not, he had one, and she was his. He could hate her, but he wouldn't hurt her, no matter how many times he might dream about it. And then he'd back off, congratulating himself for not trying to seduce her and getting a wolf tooth in his eyeball. And she'd adjust her shirt and fix her ponytail, congratulating herself for not running screaming for all those minutes his hand had been wrapped around her neck.

Sometimes Jacob Black cut class with Samantha Carter, because denying the imprint was harder than anyone in the Pack would understand. And then they would slip back into school, never explaining, and letting the others think whatever they would about it. But he would be walking at her side instead of behind her now, and she would seem more relaxed, even when his hand lightly brushed hers on accident. The Pack would notice, and they would wonder, but they would never know. Jake and Samantha had been keeping each other's secrets since the day they'd met.

It was a fucked up kind of loyalty, but it was a brand of loyalty all their own. And because Jake could be frightening when he narrowed his eyes at speculative gazes, no one ever asked why in the middle of the day, Samantha's hair would suddenly be wet.

Him next to her in chemistry class, feet stretched out more comfortably because he was on a stool now instead of in a desk. Her tapping her pencil as she considered the assignment, considered her grades, considered how many college chemistry courses she would take. Him knowing he wasn't going anywhere that he hadn't already made it to, and despite the bitterness of that, trying like hell to stay out of her path. Her wondering what groceries to buy, and what dinner Embry might want her to make. Him half asleep and her accidently letting her pencil roll off the lab table.

When they both reached for it, their eyes met. And they would both look away because they knew. They _knew_ that no matter how hard it was to deny it, no matter how much this imprint fucked with them, neither of them wanted it. Not now, not ever.

At least...not yet.


	19. Chapter 19

A/N It's taking longer than I thought to get the next chapter out, so I wanted to post a couple more of these. Sorry for the delay, I've recently started college again and I underestimated how much of my time would be spent studying instead of writing. These are all goofy, and at least the first one was previously written from a prompt challenge. Not sure about the other two. But they may be new to a couple of you. :)

**TIC Extra #19**

**Timeline**: These are all during TIC: B3 timeline.

**Characters**: Paul, Embry, Sims, Kim, Jared, Leah, Sam, Renesmee, Cassie (minor references to others)

**Rating**: T at most

**Word Count**: 1933

**Warnings**: Overuse of the words "booty", "matey", and "yarr".

* * *

**Scarecrow **

**(Early-TIC:B3 ) **

"So this scarecrow walks into a bar…"

Paul snorted at the girl next to him, where she lay stretched out on the hood of Embry's truck.

"Why do I have the feeling that this is going to be just as bad as the rest of your jokes?" Paul asked with a touch of a grin as he leaned against the bumper, watching Embry curse as the younger wolf struggled with creating a new patrol schedule.

The first few ones were always the hardest, and Paul had been training Embry to take over some of the roles Paul had held when he was ranked fourth, so he had been spending more time in front of Emb's house than normal. It looked different. Sims was obsessed with grass and grassy things, having a nicely mown lawn and a perfectly organized flower beds. She didn't really like flowers, so she had a few very well maintained pots full of herbs, and a couple tiny sproutling trees growing. She was very proud of it, up until the deer and rabbit populations had started eating her herbs.

Paul was pretty sure if the scent of a huge predator, aka Embry, wasn't detracting the deer and bunnies, then that horrible excuse for a scarecrow in the flower bed wouldn't help much.

"Hey, give me a break," Sims chuckled, tugging her hair band out so that it was more comfortable to lie as she was. "It was either that or a werewolf walks into a bar, and those crashed and burned last time."

Sims's hair was shorter, at least trimmed now so that it didn't look butchered anymore, but still long enough to stick into a tiny ponytail. Her clothes had improved though, courtesy of Embry making it clear that if he could see her toes through her shoes, or her underwear through her back pockets, then he had full rights to force new clothing on her. After all, Sims's birthday was in a couple days, and the house they were sitting out front of was basically hers and Embry's, since she'd be moving in with the younger wolf when that happened. It was a good thing, everyone wanted her out of Joe Carter's house. Sims refused to admit it, but that man was no good, and had no business raising a teenage girl. Embry came with his own issues, but the Pack as a whole would be a lot happier if Joe Carter wasn't in the picture as much anymore.

The dojo wasn't making a lot of money right now, Emb had been too inconsistently there to keep his clientele, but a pair of payless shoes and a trip to Wal-Mart he could swing. Paul was a little jealous, but Paul was also a little fired right now so it was understandable.

"Dude, this _blows_," Embry growled from where he was leaning against the front right tire. "I know we always gave you shit about it, but damn. This…"

"Blows?" Paul offered helpfully.

"_Yeah_," Emb groaned.

Paul smirked, kicked Embry none too gently in the hip, and his smirk turned into a full grin. "Gotta change me or Seth, Emb. You can't run the top three on shifts together. Gotta spread us out, and you're forgetting Sam doesn't patrol unless he absolutely has to."

Embry developed a belligerent expression and glared at Paul. "Yeah, well, this damn thing is telling me that yes, Sam absolutely has to."

"Oh, I'm taking Friday off completely. I'm taking Cass out for a nice romantic day, followed by a nice romantic dinner and hopefully some nice romantic shacking up. Aren't I suave?"

"Shacking up?" Sims raised an eyebrow and snickered, but Embry let out a curse and stared in frustration at the sheet in his hand, one that was nearly illegible.

"What? No! No, no no, that won't work! Dude, if you're just fucking with me—"

Paul yawned and grinned at Sims, who was torn between feeling bad for her lover and smirking. "Hey Sims, since Embry has set it up that he has to run double on your birthday, wanna hang out with me and Jared?"

"Nope," Sims said with a wink as Embry let out a snarl of annoyance, finding that yes, yes he had done exactly that. Paul chuckled and watched their new fourth tear his schedule to shreds and stuff it in his mouth vindictively before swallowing. The Third would have laughed, but he knew exactly the feeling, and maybe just maybe had done the same thing multiple times when no one was looking. He and the girl on the truck shared a smile, because they may not be friends necessarily, but they had history together, and that meant something. Sims stretched and yawned, before unwrapping a lollipop and sticking it in her mouth.

"Okay, so this scarecrow walks into the bar. Unemployed bartender says…"

* * *

**Mister Cute As A Buttonkins Qahla and the Paw Of Doom **

**(Late TIC:B3)**

"Jared!"

Kim knew better than to gasp his name like that, after all they had just come back from a war with another Pack and all the wolves were jumpy. But she couldn't help herself, not when she opened their back door and saw the tiny little black fur ball curled up on the doormat.

You see, Kim had a thing for cats, always had, but because Nikki was allergic, she had never been allowed to have one. So the appearance of Mister Cute As A Buttonkins was like an early Christmas present, all itsy bitsy and perfect and shivering in the cold. And she'd be able to keep this one. Jared wasn't fond of cats, but he'd cave if she finally caved on the new PlaystationMove, even though yes, they had a Wii, and no, they didn't need the exact same thing for a different gaming system. But she wanted a cat, specifically a Mister Cute As A Buttonkins.

Kim had learned a long time ago that if she wanted something, Jared would accommodate her, but if she really really wanted something, her ass better be willing to bargain. Jared was much too clever for his own good, and he only did the hardest bargaining shirtless. It was unfair. Very much unfair.

She'd get a blanket and a shoe box, since Cassie was buying shoes vicariously through Kim these days, and she'd get it all nice and warm, and tomorrow her and Jared could go to the vet and get it checked out. And since Christmas was right around the corner, they could finally have a kitten playing with the ornaments on the tree, and if he caved about a kitten, maybe Kim could bargain a big screen television for a puppy too. And then they could be one big happy family, especially since Jared was convinced that babies were out of the question. The miscarriage had hurt them both far too much and he wouldn't even consider trying, and he gave Kim the impression that his opinions on that might never change.

It wasn't as if Kim was dying to have a baby, but she wanted the option, you know? And if Jared wasn't going along with it, that kind of killed the option in its tracks. So if she couldn't have a baby, she could at least have a puppy, and the lead up to the puppy was the kitten, and the kitten was right here. As long as she was willing to argue that this whole thing was to Jared's advantage and her happiness, then Mister Cute As A Buttonkins had just become Mister Cute As A Buttonkins Qahla, the newest member of the family, Kim's first official pet and possibly the closest thing to a child as she would ever get.

With a grin of absolute delight, Kim reached for the tiny black furball, only to be shoved violently out of the way as another, larger furball, rushed to defend his mate. Kim had known better than to gasp his name, but she had anyways, and it was only to be expected that Jared's massive paw hit right on the doormat on his way out.

It was a very very tragic moment for Kim.

Confused, the wolf twisted around and tried to find what it was that had threatened her, Jared's Pack already running towards their apartment to help, but all he saw was Kim standing there, eyes horrified and filled with tears.

"_You killed Mister Buttonkins_!" Kim shrieked, her sudden and unexpected anger utterly unfair and completely uncalled for in Jared's eyes. Jared yelped as a particularly pointy object hit him in the snout. "_And you're not getting a PlaystationMove, so don't even ask_!" she cried, before slamming the door and locking him out.

Hurt, confused, and pissed off himself, Jared growled and marched to Paul's cabin. If Kim was going to be bizarre and crazy, then he'd just stay with Paul and Cassie. In his head, the Pack quietly wished that Jared's imprint didn't have to act like a bitch so much, it was _totally_ unfair.

Leah later told Sims how loud Cassie screamed when what was left of Mister Buttonkins Qahla was tracked on her front porch, how _both_ Kim and Cassie had fluffy white stuffed toy kittens now, and how Jared was running Paul's patrols for a week because of Paul being forced to hold a traditional Russian burial ceremony for a tail and two paws.

* * *

**The Dread Captain Uley **

**(Lol…umm…maybe this one didn't actually happen…)**

"Yarrrrr!"

With a flourish of his cutlass, the Dread Captain Uley lunged towards his foes. With a collective shriek, the noble men and women fell overboard, although one struggled particularly violently until Peg-leg Paul gleefully punched her in the face and dumped her off the ship. The Dread Captain Uley let out a raspy laugh, jumping up to balance on the pirate ship's hand rail.

"What think ye, First Mate?" the Dread Captain Uley asked the short haired woman lounging at his side, chuckling darkly. "Their need for my booty was most rapacious, but they'll be needing nothing but some floaties, no the now!"

"No the now, Captain?" the crew asked curiously, the two young deckhands not really being sure of what that meant.

The Dread Captain Uley simply bellowed in laughter. "No the now, me maties!"

The First Mate suddenly came to her feet and looked over the edge of the pirate ship, concern on her face as she turned to her brightly dressed, peg-legged, and eye-patched crew.

"Okay, okay, I need to call the safety word here for a moment," Leah said, raising her hand and looking around at her Pack. "Does it bother anyone else that Sam just threw the entire Cullen clan in the ocean? We're kind of allied with them, and I think Jack's freaking out a little. Vampires don't float."

"Actually, I do…halfway," a small polite voice answered from near the gangplank, where little Renesmee was treading water. "But I can try harder to sink if that would be more appropriate, Leah. Accuracy in historical recreations is fairly important."

"Oh hell. _No_. No, Nessie. Seriously Sam, isn't this getting a little carried away?"

The rest of the Pack stared at Leah, as if confused by her words. The Cassie parrot on Peg-leg Paul's shoulder peered at her suspiciously before shuffling her wings. The Dread Captain Uley narrowed his eyes at the First Mate.

"Yarr, YE be wanting my booty now, be ye? BE YE?!" the Dread Captain roared.

"Bawk! Booty!" the Cassie parrot chirped cheerfully. "Bawk booty!"

As the Dread Captain Uley descended upon Leah, eyes gleaming, she sighed and resumed character, drawing her rapier. This was the last time Sam got to pick the Pack bonding activity no matter how much the she-wolf enjoyed being plundered.


	20. Chapter 20

A/N This one is brand new, but a little sad.

**TIC Extra #20**

**Timeline**: This is set at the end of TIC: B2, before Paul and Seth go back to La Push with Cassie.

**Characters**: Cassie, Paul, Seth

**Rating**: T

**Word Count**: 2079

**Warnings**: Mild language

* * *

The last time Cassie had been on a plane, she had been by herself. Back then she had been worried about Paul, and scared for him, and scared for herself too. But she hadn't felt alone. Not even with the imprint bond between them closed down as far as Paul had closed it, in his efforts to protect her, had Cassie felt alone.

It was funny how three months later she could be standing in an airport security line with a massive wolf in front of her and another behind her, and suddenly feel that way. Suddenly feel so isolated, and so disconnected from everyone and everything.

At another time Cassie might have enjoyed the pretty TSA attendant checking her in the security line, might have even made a flirty comment or two to tease Paul. But instead Cassie just smiled slightly at the woman and waited until she was done, before joining Seth over at the x-ray machine, where the Beta was waiting to grab his backpack. The few things that Cassie had were tucked into a plastic grocery bag, and took up half of the plain black duffle bag Paul purchased sometime earlier. The bag had been checked and rechecked by the security, probably because of the expression that had been on Paul's face since they had entered the airport. Neither wolf liked having so many strangers pressing around, and they seemed particularly unhappy with her being within arm's reach of anyone but them. Chasing her for so long had solidified her as "prey" in their minds, their prey that they had hunted too long and weren't willing to lose again. There was only two of them, but it only took two wolves their size to keep her surrounded at all times.

As ready as Cassie had been to finally be found—to be with Paul and try to fix what damage now existed between them—she was already feeling the walls closing in around her. Fear wasn't the only thing that could make a prison out of someone's life. Love could as well, and those bars were far harder to bend and break. If she had to choose, Cassie was choosing Paul. There was no one else left that needed her more than Paul did, and Cassie had hurt him far more than he could ever deserve. But choosing Paul meant accepting Paul's world. And Paul's world was closing in on her.

Cassie knew exactly what it felt like to walk into a cage.

Paul's duffle bag was also closing in on her, now that Seth's shoes and book bag had gone through the machine. From where he stood in the security checkpoint just behind her, Paul's eyes stayed on Cassie, following her every motion. Her shoes were on the far side of the duffle, and she left the duffle on the conveyor belt for Paul. She had tried to carry it earlier, and his reaction had been surprising in its excessiveness. Paul, who always stayed calm, had trembled with suppressed emotion, enough that Seth had tugged Cassie away from him. Her wolf had tried in his nicest tone to tell her that no matter what else she had thought he was incapable of doing for her, he could at least carry the damn bag their stuff was in.

He had sounded so hurt, and that hurt had stayed in his eyes, even as Paul had forced himself to calmness and had taken her hand. Apparently love had made a cage for both of them.

As she sat next to Seth on a bench and slipped her tiny, ballet-ruined feet into her tennis shoes, Cassie tried to not let her fear overwhelm her. This one had been her choice. She could do this. If she ran forever, she would only have half of herself, and that was what had made her stop. She wanted her other half, she wanted Paul, even when he was practically stuffing her back on another airplane, dragging her back to La Push by the scruff of the neck, back to what he felt was safety. Even when she wasn't sure that she should go. It just felt so wrong to take someone's life, even Afon Cherkov's twisted cruel version of one, and then fly off to start a new one for herself. Like it had never happened. Like her actions hadn't cost her father his life too.

Like she had never pulled that trigger, and taken down her entire family because of it.

"I want to carry the bag, Paul," Cassie heard herself say, her voice quiet. It wouldn't matter how loud it was in the airport, because he would hear her. Paul had never been as focused on Cassie as he was right now, even as the attendant couldn't find a reason to run the scanner over him again. And maybe he was getting more through the imprint bond from her side than she was from his right now, because her wolf's eyes locked onto hers and his frown deepened as he strode over to her.

"I get that Cass, but I don't want to be the prick that lets a woman less than half his size carry his shit for him."

She didn't like the language, but she didn't say anything about it. Cassie just nodded curtly and said, "I need to walk by myself for a while."

He didn't like the request, but he didn't say anything about it either. Paul just nodded even more curtly than she had done and grabbed the duffle off the conveyor belt as she started to walk away.

They didn't leave her alone, but Cassie hadn't expected them to. They just flanked her from positions further out, only visible if she turned her head. Like this she could pretend that the airport terminal stretching in front of her was actually a path that she was taking alone. Only Cassie had been on her own path for months now, and it had been so…lonely. Her steps came shorter and slower as she remembered what that was like, back when there wasn't anyone beside her, just the knowledge that Paul was out there somewhere, chasing her. Waiting for her to be ready for her. Waiting until she was done with being alone.

_No one wanted to be the lonely girl in the hotel room_.

No one wanted to be the lonely girl in the airport either, not even Cassie. Her slow steps came to a halt next to a large, marble encased fern display. Standing in a crowded airport should have meant that she was getting bumped into, but no one approached from behind, and everyone coming towards her was deliberately stepping out of the way. It was only now, when she was finally trying to put her feet back on the path that she wanted, that she needed, that Cassie realized how lost she really was. How lost and how lonely. And how scared. She was so scared. She was trying to be brave, but she wasn't sure she was ready for this. For any of it. She'd have to tell Paul what she'd done. She'd have to find a way to live with what she'd done. But most importantly, she was going to have to find a way to forgive herself for what she'd done.

All three made her feel equally sick.

A little more than a year ago, Cassie had looked at a tall, beautiful man outside of a movie theatre and watched him throw up into potted plant. To her credit, Cassie didn't do the same, but her stomach twisted so hard that she thought she might. As she leaned her palm on the marble, despite her best efforts to stop them, tears welled up in her eyes. But when Cassie wiped her face with the back of her hand and turned to the side, a heavy arm wrapped around her slender shoulders. Another one wrapped around her waist, pulling her into a broad chest. And when she sniffled, Cassie realized something. Paul smelled like her favorite thing in the world. Himself.

"Cass, I don't want you to carry the damn bag, because it's all I can do to keep myself from carrying _you_," Paul told her in a pained voice.

"It's all Seth can do to keep from carrying _both_ of you," the Beta said from behind them, sounding more like Jake than he ever had. Protective. Decisive. Serious. "Guys, we need to go, we were cutting this flight close as it was."

"Cass, please don't cry," her wolf pleaded, not really understanding even though it was clear he was trying. "Fuck, carry the bag, but please don't cry."

But how could Paul understand, when she had no words to explain it to him? It wasn't the bag. It was so many things…she could still see that look in his eyes when she'd pulled the trigger. She could still hear the sound of his body sliding to the ground. She could still feel the blood on her hands, could still taste it on her lips when she'd tried to give him mouth to mouth and force his heart to start beating again…

"Hell, even Jake's going nuts and is ready to come get all three of us and drag us back home."

Home. Home, the thing she'd taken from so many people. Ani and Koldan could never go home again. Her mother, stripped of all her assets, would have no choice but to sell their family estates. _Her father_…

Was she ready? She had missed Paul so much, but she didn't think she was. Just one more day. Maybe they could give her one more day to just not be ready yet. And then maybe the next day she would be better.

"Our plane's boarding," Seth reminded them again. "Cass, I know you've both been through a lot, but we're about to fly over the ocean and I'd rather not have to Beta whammy Paul to keep him from freaking out this time. I don't want to mess with him and have it carry over to you. I need you to try—"

"She doesn't want to go, Seth."

Never had Cassie heard him sound like that. Never, not even when things had looked their worst had he ever sounded so defeated, so exhausted. Paul looked as sick as she felt, and he wouldn't look at her, just staring over the top of her head as his strong hands limply released her. Her own hands were much smaller, and shouldn't have been able to force his to move, but Cassie easily guided his hands back to her waist.

"I don't," Cassie told him, pressing her face back to his chest, sniffling again. "But it's not because of you, Paul, I promise. I _want_ to be with you. Do you need to go? Or do you just want to go?"

He seemed to fold around her, wrapping her up as tightly as he could. "It's been…tough, Cass. Having Seth with me helped, but I need to get to my Pack. I need to be with them and take care of them, and I can't do that from over here. I need to go, but I need you more. I need to be with you more, and I need to take care of you more. If we've got to wait until you're ready, then we wait. The Pack is my home, but you're my home too, Momma."

Maybe if his low, tired voice hadn't broken on the word "home", Cassie might have taken him up on his offer. Instead she took his hand, and took a deep breath, and decided that she could do this. She might be little, and her heart had been kicked around too much, but she could still be strong. As strong as she had to be for both of them, because Paul was running out of strength, and it was clear that he was reaching the limit of what he could handle alone.

Alone. Never again would either of them be alone, not in an airport, not anywhere they went. And the rest…all the rest…she would just have to deal with in her own terms, in her own time. Right now, Paul needed Cassie to be strong for both of them.

"Come on, Paul," the tiny imprint told her wolf, smiling past her fear and her regret, smiling at him and _meaning_ it. "Let's go home."


	21. Chapter 21

**SPOILER ALERT! SPOILER ALERT! SPOILER ALERT! SPOILER ALERT! SPOILER ALERT! SPOILER ALERT! SPOILER ALERT! **

Lol, that was kind of fun to type. But yes, this is a major **SPOILER** drabble. It introduces a new wolf that will be in the series in B5, and it takes place in the time jump between B4 and B5. This wolf is one of my absolute favorite characters of TIC, and I thought I'd share a scene with him in it. In case the drabble gets confusing, the OC wolf is a wolf that was in Calgary when Sims and Brady were kidnapped by Chitakido. He's actually the one that beat Brady up over and over again in the caves. He's one of the wolves that was at Jack and Tupkuk's fight, because he was one of the wolves that couldn't be trusted to be left in Calgary without an Alpha to control him.

**TIC Extra #22**

**Timeline**: This is set during the several year time jump in between B4 and B5.

**Characters**: Seth, Brady, OC wolf

**Rating**: M

**Word Count**: 2668

**Warnings**: Harsh language, dark themes

* * *

The La Push wolves hadn't killed him. In his old Pack, they wouldn't have even hesitated.

It didn't make any sense to Logan, even as he stood in front of the semicircle of La Push wolves, the ones watching him so warily. The open hostility on their faces was validated. He had damaged their own, and they had the right to kill him in revenge. They were _supposed_ to, that's how things were done. That was why Logan was here, so that the red wolf could kill him. He was done with feeling guilt for his actions. He was done feeling anything at all. His body was inked from neck to knees with the shame of what he had become, but this was one last thing that he could at least do with honor. He could die at that pup's jaws, like he deserved to. Or, at least at the jaws of the others.

Even Tupkuk had agreed to this. Logan was too dangerous, too much the finely honed tool of his previous Alpha. Even Tupkuk had admitted that this was for the best, especially considering the sheer level of hate Logan had for his own Pack, Tupkuk particularly, and the wolfborn especially. He couldn't be trusted and it took too much to control him. Some of the other Calgary wolves showed signs of progress with Tupkuk's rehabilitation efforts, but Logan was just too far gone.

Unsurprising, since Logan had been at…_his_…side for nearly two hundred years.

It had never once even occurred to Logan that the La Push wolves wouldn't kill him. Him, the Calgary wolf that had helped steal their Alpha's imprint. Him, the Calgary wolf that had beaten a puppy barely grown into his paws nearly to death, over and over and over again.

They hadn't killed him and now Logan was about to have a new Alpha, and a new Pack of wolves that had every reason to want him dead. As he stood before the Alpha—some half-grown pup named Seth Clearwater, who probably didn't even know why he had that name—Logan was at a loss as to what to do. His escort was gone, Tupkuk was no longer in his head, and the La Push Alpha hadn't killed him. No, La Push had left his Pack, taking his she-wolf with him to go hunt down the missing _kadidu_, and had left this Seth as the new Alpha.

Seth, who gave the change of command a moment to settle before closing the distance between them and putting his hand on Logan's shoulder, with the intent to take him into the Pack.

The reaction was instantaneous, Logan couldn't stop himself any more than he could have grown wings or phased into a chicken. This Alpha had no restrictions on him thus far, he was not yet forced to stand passive beneath Seth's touch, and experience had taught Logan that to be touched by an Alpha was a bad thing. Logan had come here to die, but some instincts were too ingrained, and the instant the Alpha's hand touched him, Logan struck.

He hadn't been trying to kill the Alpha, just get some room between them, but it had been a long time since he'd had to control himself without someone else doing it for him. Logan simply couldn't differentiate between what was too much, too fast, too violent anymore. So when Seth touched him, Logan reacted, breaking Seth's grip and twisting his arm behind him, spinning behind the Alpha and getting his hand to the back of Seth's neck.

"_**Stop**_."

The order wasn't for him. Logan realized that even as it washed over the group of wolves, all of whom had lunged for him to protect their Alpha. That fucked with him, because Logan hadn't had an Alpha that he would have willingly protected in two centuries.

He hadn't had an Alpha that in two centuries who wouldn't have moved to protect himself.

Logan could kill Seth Clearwater. His hand was in the exact right spot on Seth's neck to kill him, and by the look in the sick wolf's mottled eyes, that one knew it. Part of Logan wanted to. Killing Seth would pass him Seth's wolves, even if he couldn't hold all of them. But it would fuck with the sick wolf enough to earn that precious moment Logan would need to kill him, training or no. The Beta would be a tough fight, but that one looked so wet behind the ears that he wouldn't know how to take the Pack back in time. Then Logan could take this Pack and use them to…to…

He had no idea what he would use them to do. It was training that made him glance across the wolves, but when his eyes met the red wolf's eyes, seeing the panic in there, Logan remembered why he had come here. He'd come here to die, not to kill others. He'd come here to die beneath that wolf's jaws, and he'd been denied that. Logan could run, and maybe he'd have a chance to live free for once, but fleeing like a coward had never been him. He'd come here to atone for only one of too many sins, but Logan had enough pride left to not run.

Hurting the pup's Alpha would hurt the pup, and Logan hadn't come here to torture the red wolf more.

Realizing that his eyes were still locked on the red wolf's, Logan grunted and then released Seth, stepping sideways. The Alpha straightened and shook his arm to regain the blood flow, cracking his neck to ease the muscles. Seth turned and regarded him. Logan couldn't hold his eyes, but he could stare just beneath them, flat, impassive.

"I should have asked first. Sorry about that," Seth said, still sounding relaxed. "Logan, can I touch you?"

There wasn't even the slightest hint of Alpha in the wolf's voice, absolutely no compulsion, and it was that which made Logan move backwards a step. Paranoia rolled through him, shaking his calm. Why the fuck was the Alpha _asking_ him?

"I don't force wolves into my Pack, Logan. It's free will or nothing. If you can't willingly stand still for me to touch you, you're never going to make it here. But I agree with Tupkuk on something at least…you react first and think afterwards, and that's going to get someone killed. You can be my wolf, or I can take you back to Calgary, or maybe to Juneau. I'd even be willing to take you to one of the Packs back east, but I honestly don't know if that would be a good thing or not."

Logan didn't say anything, and his eyes flickered to the red wolf again. "He shouldn't have to be in a Pack with me," Logan said roughly, his hands tightening into fists. This was too much to ask, from a wolf that hadn't been _asked_ anything for centuries.

The pup drew himself up and then spat, "Get this damn order off me, Seth." _He_ would have killed the red wolf for saying that, but Seth just nodded and did as the pup wanted, stepping sideways. And then Logan was face to face with the one who hadn't left him alone for all these years, the one who had crawled into his brain and stayed there, tormenting him mercilessly.

"I shouldn't _have_ to? What, you think you _know_ me, mother fucker?"

Logan had been expecting it, his body tensing as the younger wolf snatched him up by the throat. The pup was taller now. Broader, stronger, older. Able punch so hard that Logan was almost knocked unconscious on his feet, seeing stars as the pup shoved him backwards.

"You think you can _judge_ me by that day? With _ten_ of you to every _one_ of us? "

"I do judge you by that day," Logan grunted, staggering to keep his balance. The pup's second punch put him in the dirt, and Logan spat blood as he climbed back to his feet. Good, this was good. This was how he had wanted to die, by the only hand—

"Brady, he wants you to kill him because you're the only living person he still respects."

Logan turned furious eyes to the Beta, the one who had pulled that from his head. He knew who that one was, now that he really looked. That one was the other pup that day, the one who had resisted…_his_…orders to kill an imprint. Logan had hated that one especially, for being so young and able to do something that the rest of them couldn't.

Logan had hated him then, and he still hated the other wolf now. The trigger that had been built into him by so much careful conditioning flipped again. As he suddenly moved, Logan knew that he was going to kill that one for pulling Logan's private thoughts from his head, when he should have been too guarded for anyone to get them. His thoughts were _his_. They had taken _everything_ from him, his home and his family, his pride and his honor, his lover…even his skin wasn't his own anymore. But his thoughts were _his_.

"_**Stop**_."

This time the order was for him, and unlike the orders of his previous two Alphas, it literally put Logan's face in the dirt. One word, without the Alpha even seeming to try. One word, with Logan not even Seth's wolf. It terrified him. And because terror was something that he had lived with for so long, had been conditioned to react to, Logan reacted again. Stop meant stop going for the Beta, but it didn't mean stop _completely_. So Logan rolled onto his back and twisted to his feet, balanced and ready and facing the new threat, the Alpha.

The shit of it was that when he did so, he put his back to the pup instinctively. Not because he thought the pup was the weakest one there, but because Logan, in his moment of confusion, decided to protect the only one there that mattered to him on any level. He had placed himself between the threat and the red wolf, the pup that had probably broken his jaw. Logan knew it was stupid, but he'd done it, and now he was going to have to live with it. Or die with it, he really didn't care either way anymore.

Of all the things he'd done in his life, hurting that pup was the one thing that had fucked him up the most.

Seth had raised an eyebrow, and the Beta's expression of barely controlled anger had faded to one of puzzlement. Then a hand grabbed his shoulder and jerked him around, catching Logan unaware, and he reacted _again_, starting to counter the fist that was coming his way until he realized whose fist it was. Pulling his counterattack nearly wrenched his arm out of its socket, and Logan snarled a curse as he ended up on the ground on his back this time, spitting blood again. When the pup pinned him by the throat, Logan inhaled sharply, praying that he had the strength to stay still.

He was free, finally free, and in his last moments of life he was going to choose to live by the honor that he'd once had, and he was going to die the way he should have died a long time ago. Fast or slow, it didn't matter. This one, the only one that mattered, was ending him and Logan had never been more grateful—

The hand on his throat relaxed, the pup's eyes once again confused. If Logan would have been a lesser wolf, he would have begged, but instead he closed his eyes, head falling back in the dirt as he snarled in frustration. For three long moments he wondered if he should just snap his own neck, so no one else would have to. But he couldn't…probably…and more to the point, he wouldn't.

And since he wasn't going to die, Logan knew that he couldn't stay here like this.

Logan pushed the red wolf off of him, more gently than he probably should have, and rose to his feet. His previous Alpha—not Tupkuk, that fucker—had trained him to always stay on his feet. So he stood and he faced this Alpha that was so terrifying, once more raising his eyes to just below Seth's cheekbone, numbing himself to the pain in his jaw and the pain in his nose, or anything else. He'd given away too much already, and if he wasn't going to fight them, or them kill him, then he needed to…

"What _the fuck_ is wrong with you?"

That was the pup, and it took Logan a moment to understand. He'd put himself between the pup and the Alpha again. Dammit. What the fuck _was_ wrong with him?

"I've seen enough," Seth said abruptly. "Logan, no one's killing you today. I take back what I said about the other Packs. I want you, and you're mine now."

And so he was. That one was strong enough that he pulled Logan into his Pack as if it was nothing. Logan knew what to expect, and the only thing he let them see when the change from lone wolf to Pack affected him was a slight twitch of his jaw.

In his old Pack, anything more would have been cause to be beaten the way he himself had beaten Brady, if not as many times.

"Hell, man," the Beta said, sounding sick, and this time Logan didn't let his rage at the intrusion on his thoughts show. He simply grew more still, and wrapped his mind with wall after wall of protection. These young wolves had always been dangerous for their potential, and the Beta was no different. But even that one wouldn't be able to listen in if Logan didn't let him. It would take focus away from other things, but it was necessary.

"Collin, stay out of his head," the Alpha said softly, but that was all Seth needed to say to make the presence pushing at his mind to pull away, leaving just Logan. This time when Seth approached, Logan readied himself to be touched. The Alpha's hand was light on his shoulder, and Logan was able to keep his face expressionless and make no noise. But he did flinch at the contact, and when Seth kept his hand there, heavier now, Logan began to tremor.

For the first time in a long time, he didn't know what to do.

"I need you controlled," Seth told Logan, voice quiet and serious. "This is our home, and I can't have you hurt anyone. That's the only thing you are going to do right now. You're not going to patrol, you're not going to find a job, and you're not going worry about anything else besides not hurting anyone. We'll make sure you're fed and that you have a place to sleep, and you're going to stay with one of us at all times until you can do that. And you'll stay away from Brady unless he chooses to approach you—"

"_Seth_," one of the other wolves spoke up, sounding furious, but it wasn't the red wolf, and so they didn't matter. "Seth, this is—"

The Alpha cut that one's words off with a small jerk of his chin, and then focused back on Logan without even punishing that one for the interruption. Tupkuk did that shit and it was why one of these days one of his wolves was going to kill him. If Seth Clearwater was weak, his fate would probably end up the same.

Seth squeezed Logan's shoulder and gave him a friendly smile. "Logan, all you have to do is not hurt anyone, that's all I want from you. Welcome to the Pack, brother."

That was it? That was all the Alpha wanted of him? Logan didn't believe it for one second.


End file.
